BEN-HUE 


A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST 


BY 

LEW.    WALLACE 

AUTHOK  OF  "THE  FAIR  GOD" 


"Learn  of  the  philosophers  always  to  look  for  natural  causes  in  all  extraor 
dinary  events;  aud  when  such  natural  causes  are  wanting,  recur  to  God" 

COUNT  DK  GABALIS 


NEAV    YORK 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN  SQUARE 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1880,  by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


All  rights  reserved. 


WHO 
STILL  ABIDES  WITH  ME 


2046373 


"But  this  repetition  of  the  old  story  is  just  the  fairest  charm  dl  domestic 
discourse.  If  \ve  can  often  repeat  to  ourselves  sweet  thoughts  without  ennui, 
why  shall  not  another  be  suffered  to  awaken  them  within  us  still  oftener." — 
Ilesp. :  JEAN  PAUL  F.  RICUTER. 


"See  how  from  far  upon  the  eastern  road 
The  star- led  wisards  haste  with  odours  sweet. 
****** 

Bnt  peaceful  was  the  night 
Wherein  the  Prince  of  Light 

His  reign  of  peace  upon  the  earth  began  ; 
The  winds  with  wonder  whist 
Smoothly  the  waters  kist, 

Whispering  new  joys  to  the  mild  ocean — 
Who  now  hath  quite  forgot  to  rave, 
While  birds  of  calm  sit  brooding  on  the  charmed  wave." 

Christ's  Xativity  :    The  Hymn. — HILTON. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


BOOK  FIRST. 

CHAPTKR  PAGE 

I.  INTO  THE  DESERT 9 

II.  MEETING  OP  THE  WISE  MEN 13 

III.  THE  ATHENIAN  SPEAKS — FAITH 18 

IV.  SPEECH  OF  THE  HINDOO — LOVE 21 

V.  THE  EGYPTIAN'S  STORY — GOOD  WORKS 26 

VI.  THE  JOPPA  GATE 34 

VII.  TYPICAL  CHARACTERS  AT  THE  JOPPA  GATE 38 

VIII.  JOSEPH  AND  MARY  GOING  TO  BETHLEHEM 43 

IX.  THE  CAVE  AT  BETHLEHEM 48 

X.  THE  LIGHT  IN  THE  SKY 57 

XI.  CHRIST  is  BORN 58 

XII.  THE  WISE  MEN  ARRIVE  AT  JERUSALEM 65 

XIII.  THE  WITNESSES  BEFORE  HEROD 68 

XIV.  THE  WISE  MEN  FIND  THE  CHILD     .  78 


BOOK  SECOND. 

I.  JERUSALEM  UNDER  THE  ROMANS 81 

II.  BEN-HUR  AND  MESSALA 84 

III.  A  JUDEAN  HOME 94 

IV.  THE  STRANGE  THINGS  BEN-HCR  WANTS  TO  KNOW  .     .     .  100 
V.  ROME  AND  ISRAEL — A  COMPARISON 107 

VI.  THE  ACCIDENT  TO  GRATUS 114 

VII.  A  GALLEY  SLAVE .127 


vi  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

CH.™  BOOK  THIRD. 

I.  QUINTUS  ARRIUS  GOES  TO  SEA 131 

II.  AT  THE  OAK 138 

III.  ARRIUS  AND  BEN-HUR  ON  DECK 144 

IV.  "No.  60" 152 

V.  THE  SEA  FIGHT 159 

VI.  ARRIDS  ADOPTS  BEN-HUR  .  165 


BOOK  FOURTH. 

I.  BEN-HUR  RETURNS  EAST 172 

II.  ON  THE  ORONTES 176 

III.  THE  DEMAND  ON  SIMONIDES 179 

IV.  SIMONIDES  AND  ESTHER 189 

V.  THE  GROVE  OF  DAPHNE 197 

VI.  THE  MULBERRIES  OF  DAPHNE 203 

VII.  THE  STADIUM  IN  THE"  GROVE 209 

VIII.  THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  CASTALIA 215 

IX.  THE  CHARIOT  RACE  DISCUSSED 222 

X.  BEN-HUR  HEARS  OF  CHRIST .  228 

XL  THE  WISE  SERVANT  AND  HIS  DAUGHTER 236 

XII.  A  ROMAN  ORGIE 245 

XIII.  A  DRIVER  FOR  ILDERIM'S  ARABS 255 

XIV.  TlIE    DOWAR    IN    THE    ORCHARD    OF    PALMS 264 

XV.  BALTHASAR  IMPRESSES  BEN-HUR 268 

XVI.  CHRIST  is  COMING — BALTHASAR 274 

XVII.  THE  KINGDOM — SPIRITUAL  OR  POLITICAL?  .                        .  281 


BOOK  FIFTH. 

I.  MESSALA  DOFFS  HIS  CHAPLET 288 

II.  ILDERIM'S  ARABS  UNDER  THE  YOKE 292 

III.  THE  ARTS  OF  CLEOPATRA 298 

IV.  MESSALA  ON  GUARD 310 

V.  ILDERIM  AND  BEN-HUR  DELIBERATE 311 

VI.  TRAINING  THE  FOUR 318 

VII.  SIMONIDES  RENDERS  ACCOUNT 322 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  vii 

CHAPTKB  PAGE 

VIII.  SPIRITUAL  OR  POLITICAL  ? — SIMONIDES  ARGUES  ....  828 

IX.  ESTHER  AND  BEN-!!UR 339 

X.  POSTED  FOR  THE  RACK .  343 

XI.  MAKING  THE  WAGERS 348 

XII.  THE  CIRCUS 355 

XIII.  THE  START SCO 

XIV.  THE  RACE 3G8 

XV.  THE  INVITATION  OF  IRAS 377 

XVI.  IN  TIIE  PALACE  OF  IDEUNEE  .  380 


BOOK  SIXTH. 

I.  THE  TOWER  OF  AXTONIA — CELL  No.  VI 391 

II.  THE  LEPERS 398 

III.  JERUSALEM  AGAIN 410 

IV.  BEN-HUR  AT  ins  FATHER'S  GATE 415 

V.  THE  TOMB  ABOVE  THE  KING'S  GARDEN 422 

VI.  A  TRICK  OF  PILATE'S — THE  COMBAT.  .  430 


BOOK  SEVENTH. 

I.  JERUSALEM  GOES  OUT  TO  A  PROPHET 441 

II.  NOONING  BY  THE  POOL — IRAS 444 

III.  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SOUL 450 

IV.  BEN-HUR  KEEPS  WATCH  WITH  IRAS 457 

V.  AT  BETHABARA  406 


BOOK  EIGHTH. 

I.  GUESTS  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  HUB 475 

II.  BEN-HUR  TELLS  OF  THE  NAZARENE 483 

III.  THE  LEPERS  LEAVE  THEIR  TOMB 490 

IV.  THE  MIRACLE 499 

V.  PILGRIMS  TO  THE  PASSOVER 507 

VI.  A  SERPENT  OF  THE  NILE 510 

VII.  BEN-HUR  RETURNS  TO  ESTHER 522 

VIII.  GETHSEMANE— "WHOM  SEEK  YE?" 525 

IX.  THE  GOING  TO  CALVARY 532 

X.  THE  CRUCIFIXION  541 


BEtf-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST, 


BOOK  FIEST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  Jebel  es  Zubleh  is  a  mountain  fifty  miles  and  more 
in  length,  and  so  narrow  that  its  tracery  on  the  map  gives 
it  a  likeness  to  a  caterpillar  crawling  from  the  south  to  the 
north.  Standing  on  its  red-and-white  cliffs,  and  looking 
off  under  the  path  of  the  rising  sun,  one  sees  only  the  Des 
ert  of  Arabia,  where  the  east  winds,  so  hateful  to  the  vine- 
growers  of  Jericho,  have  kept  their  playgrounds  since  the 
beginning.  Its  feet  are  well  covered  by  sands  tossed  from 
the  Euphrates,  there  to  lie ;  for  the  mountain  is  a  wall  to 
the  pasture-lands  of  Moab  and  Ammon  on  the  west — hinds 
which  else  had  been  of  the  desert  a  part. 

The  Arab  has  impressed  his  language  upon  everything 
south  and  east  of  Judea;  so,  in  his  tongue,  the  old  Jebel 
is  the  parent  of  numberless  wadies  which,  intersecting  the 
Roman,  road — now  a  dim  suggestion  of  what  once  it  was, 
a  dusty  path  for  Syrian  pilgrims  to  and  from  Mecca — run 
their  furrows,  deepening  as  they  go,  to  pass  the  torrents  of 
the  rainy  season  into  the  Jordan,  or  their  last  receptacle, 
the  Dead  Sea.  Out  of  one  of  these  wadies — or,  more  par 
ticularly,  out  of  that  one  which  rises  at  the  extreme  end  of 
the  Jebel,  and,  extending  east  of  north,  becomes  at  length 
the  bed  of  the  Jabbok  River — a  traveller  passed,  going  to 
the  table-lands  of  the  desert.  To  this  person  the  attention 
of  the  reader  is  first  besought. 


10  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

Judged  by  his  appearance,  he  was  quite  forty-five  years 
old.  llis  beard,  once  of  the  deepest  black,  flowing  broadly 
over  his  breast,  was  streaked  with  white.  His  face  was 
brown  as  a  parched  coffee-berry,  and  so  hidden  by  a  red 
Jcufiyeh  (as  the  kerchief  of  the  head  is  at  this  day  called 
by  the  children  of  the  desert)  as  to  be  but  in  part  visible. 
Now  and  then  he  raised  his  eyes,  and  they  were  large  and 
dark.  lie  was  clad  in  the  flowing  garments  so  universal 
in  the  East ;  but  their  style  may  not  be  described  more 
particularly,  for  he  sat  under  a  miniature  tent,  and  rode  a 
great  white  dromedary. 

It  may  be  doubted  if  the  people  of  the  West  ever  over 
come  the  impression  made  upon  them  by  the  first  view  of 
a  camel  equipped  and  loaded  for  the  desert.  Custom,  so 
fatal  to  other  novelties,  affects  this  feeling  but  little.  At  the 
end  of  long  journeys  with  caravans,  after  years  of  residence 
with  the  Bedawin,  the  AVestern-born,  wherever  they  may 
be,  will  stop  and  wait  the  passing  of  the  stately  brute.  The 
charm  is  not  in  the  figure,  which  not  even  love  can  make 
beautiful ;  nor  in  the  movement,  the  noiseless  stepping,  or 
the  broad  careen.  As  is  the  kindness  of  the  sea  to  a  ship, 
so  is  that  of  the  desert  to  its  creature.  It  clothes  him  with 
all  its  mysteries  ;  in  such  manner,  too,  that  while  we  are 
looking  at  him  we  are  thinking  of  them :  therein  is  the 
wonder.  The  animal  Avhich  now  came  out  of  the  wady 
might  well  have  claimed  the  customary  homage.  Its  color 
and  height ;  its  breadth  of  foot ;  its  bulk  of  body,  not  fat, 
but  overlaid  with  muscle ;  its  long,  slender  neck,  of  swan- 
like  curvature  ;  the  head,  wide  between  the  eyes,  and  taper 
ing  to  a  muzzle  which  a  lady's  bracelet  might  have  almost 
clasped ;  its  motion,  step  long  and  elastic,  tread  sure  and 
soundless — all  certified  its  Syrian  blood,  old  as  the  days  of 
Cyrus,  and  absolutely  priceless.  There  was  the  usual  bridle, 
covering  the  forehead  with  scarlet  fringe,  and  garnishing  the 
throat  with  pendent  brazen  chains,  each  ending  with  a  tin 
kling  silver  bell ;  but  to  the  bridle  there  was  neither  rein  for 
the  rider  nor  strap  for  a  driver.  The  furniture  perched  on 
the  back  was  an  invention  which  with  any  other  people  than 
of  the  East  would  have  made  the  inventor  renowned.  It 
consisted  of  two  wooden  boxes,  scarce  four  feet  in  length, 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  11 

balanced  so  that  one  hung  at  each  side ;  the  inner  space, 
softly  lined  and  carpeted,  was  arranged  to  allow  the  master 
to  sit  or  lie  half  reclined  ;  over  it  all  was  stretched  a  green 
awning.  Broad  back  and  breast  straps,  and  girths,  secured 
with  countless  knots  and  ties,  held  the  device  in  place.  In 
such  manner  the  ingenious  sons  of  Gush  had  contrived  to 
make  comfortable  the  sunburnt  ways  of  the  wilderness, 
along  which  lay  their  duty  as  often  as  their  pleasure. 

When  the  dromedary  lifted  itself  out  of  the  last  break 
of  the  wady,  the  traveller  had  passed  the  boundary  of 
El  Belka,  the  ancient  Ammon.  It  was  morning-time.  Be 
fore  him  was  the  sun,  half  curtained  in  fleecy  mist ;  before 
him  also  spread  the  desert ;  not  the  realm  of  drifting  sands, 
which  was  farther  on,  but  the  region  where  the  herbage 
began  to  dwarf ;  where  the  surface  is  strewn  with  boulders 
of  granite,  and  gray  and  brown  stones,  interspersed  with 
languishing  acacias  and  tufts  of  camel-grass.  The  oak, 
bramble,  and  arbutus  lay  behind,  as  if  they  had  come  to 
a  line,  looked  over  into  the  well-less  waste,  and  crouched 
with  fear. 

And  now  there  was  an  end  of  path  or  road.  More  than 
ever  the  camel  seemed  insensibly  driven ;  it  lengthened 
and  quickened  its  pace,  its  head  pointed  straight  towards 
the  horizon ;  through  the  wide  nostrils  it  drank  the  wind 
in  great  draughts.  The  litter  swayed,  and  rose  and  fell  like 
a  boat  in  the  waves.  Dried  leaves  in  occasional  beds  rustled 
underfoot.  Sometimes  a  perfume  like  absinthe  sweetened 
all  the  air.  Lark  and  chat  and  rock-swallow  leaped  to 
wing,  and  white  partridges  ran  whistling  and  clucking  out 
of  the  way.  More  rarely  a  fox  or  a  hyena  quickened  his 
gallop,  to  study  the  intruders  at  a  safe  distance.  Off  to  the 
right  rose  the  hills  of  the  Jebel,  the  pearl-gray  veil  resting 
upon  them  changing  momentarily  into  a  purple  which  the 
sun  would  make  matchless  a  little  later.  Over  their  high 
est  peaks  a  vulture  sailed  on  broad  wings  into  widening 
circles.  But  of  all  these  things  the  tenant  under  the  green 
tent  saw  nothing,  or,  at  least,  made  no  sign  of  recognition. 
His  eyes  were  fixed  and  dreamy.  The  going  of  the  man, 
like  that  of  the  animal,  was  as  one  being  led. 

For  two  hours  the  dromedary  swung  forward,  keeping 


12  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

the  trot  steadily  and  the  line  due  east.  In  that  time  the 
traveller  never  changed  his  position,  nor  looked  to  the  right 
or  left.  On  the  desert,  distance  is  not  measured  by  miles 
or  leagues,  but  by  the  saat,  or  hour,  and  the  mamil,  or  halt : 
three  and  a  half  leagues  till  the  former,  fifteen  or  twenty- 
five  the  latter ;  but  they  are  the  rates  for  the  common 
camel.  A  carrier  of  the  genuine  Syrian  stock  can  make 
three  leagues  easily.  At  full  speed  he  overtakes  the  ordi 
nary  winds.  As  one  of  the  results  of  the  rapid  advance, 
the  face  of  the  landscape  underwent  a  cliange.  The  Jebel 
stretched  along  the  western  horizon,  like  a  pale-blue  ribbon. 
A  tell,  or  hummock  of  clay  and  cemented  sand,  arose  here 
and  there.  Now  and  then  basaltic  stones  lifted  their  round 
crowns,  outposts  of  the  mountain  against  the  forces  of  the 
plain ;  all  else,  however,  was  sand,  sometimes  smooth  as 
the  beaten  beach,  then  heaped  in  rolling  ridges;  here 
chopped  waves,  there  long  swells.  So,  too,  the  condition 
of  the  atmosphere  changed.  The  sun,  high  risen,  had 
drunk  his  fill  of  dew  and  mist,  and  warmed  the  breeze  that 
kissed  the  wanderer  under  the  awning ;  far  and  near  he 
was  tinting  the  earth  with  faint  milk-whiteness,  and  shim 
mering  all  the  sky. 

Two  hours  more  passed  without  rest  or  deviation  from 
the  course.  Vegetation  entirely  ceased.  The  sand,  so 
crusted  on  the  surface  that  it  broke  into  rattling  flakes  at 
every  step,  held  undisputed  sway.  The  Jebel  was  out  of 
view,  and  there  was  no  landmark  visible.  The  shadow  that 
before  followed  had  now  shifted  to  the  north,  and  was 
keeping  even  race  with  the  objects  which  cast  it ;  and  as 
there  was  no  sign  of  halting,  the  conduct  of  the  traveller 
became  each  moment  more  strange. 

No  one,  be  it  remembered,  seeks  the  desert  for  a  pleas 
ure-ground.  Life  and  business  traverse  it  by  paths  along 
which  the  bones  of  things  dead  are  strewn  as  so  many 
blazons.  Such  are  the  roads  from  well  to  well,  from  pas 
ture  to  pasture.  The  heart  of  the  most  veteran  sheik  beats 
quicker  when  he  finds  himself  alone  in  the  pathless  tracts. 
So  the  man  with  whom  we  are  dealing  could  not  have  been 
in  search  of  pleasure ;  neither  was  his  manner  that  of  a 
fugitive  ;  not  once  did  he  look  behind  him.  In  such  situ- 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST.  13 

ations  fear  and  curiosity  are  the  most  common  sensations ; 
he  was  not  moved  by  them.  When  men  are  lonely,  they 
stoop  to  any  companionship;  the  dog  becomes  a  com 
rade,  the  horse  a  friend,  and  it  is  no  shame  to  shower  them 
with  caresses  and  speeches  of  love.  The  camel  received 
no  such  token,  not  a  touch,  not  a  word. 

Exactly  at  noon  the  dromedary,  of  its  own  will,  stopped, 
and  uttered  the  cry  or  moan,  peculiarly  piteous,  by  which 
its  kind  always  protest  against  an  overload,  and  sometimes 
crave  attention  and  rest.  The  master  thereupon  bestirred 
himself,  waking,  as  it  were,  from  sleep.  lie  threw  the  cur 
tains  of  the  houdah  up,  looked  at  the  sun,  surveyed  the 
country  on  every  side  long  and  carefully,  as  if  to  identify 
an  appointed  place.  Satisfied  with  the  inspection,  he  drew 
a  deep  breath  and  nodded,  much  as  to  say,  "  At  last,  at 
last !"  A  moment  after,  he  crossed  his  hands  upon  his 
breast,  bowed  his  head,  and  prayed  silently.  The  pious 
duty  done,  he  prepared  to  dismount.  From  his  throat  pro 
ceeded  the  sound  heard  doubtless  by  the  favorite  camels 
of  Job — Ikh  !  ikh  ! — the  signal  to  kneel.  Slowly  the  ani 
mal  obeyed,  grunting  the  while.  The  rider  then  put  his 
foot  upon  the  slender  neck,  and  stepped  upon  the  sand. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  man  as  now  revealed  was  of  admirable  proportions, 
not  so  tall  as  powerful.  Loosening  the  silken  rope  which 
held  the  kufiijeh  on  his  head,  he  brushed  the  fringed  folds 
back  until  his  face  was  bare — a  strong  face,  almost  negro 
in  color;  yet  the  low,  broad  forehead,  aquiline  nose,  the 
outer  corners  of  the  eyes  turned  slightly  upward,  the  hair 
profuse,  straight,  harsh,  of  metallic  lustre,  and  falling  to 
the  shoulder  in  many  plaits,  were  signs  of  origin  impossi 
ble  to  disguise.  So  looked  the  Pharaohs  and  the  later 
Ptolemies;  so  looked  Mizraim,  father  of  the  Egyptian  race. 
He  wore  the  kamis,  a  white  cotton  shirt,  tight-sleeved, 
open  in  front,  extending  to  the  ankles  and  embroidered 
down  the  collar  and  breast,  over  which  was  thrown  a 
brown  woollen  cloak,  now,  as  in  all  probability  it  was 


14  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

then,  called  the  aba,  an  outer  garment  with  long  skirt  and 
short  sleeves,  lined  inside  with  stuff  of  mixed  cotton  and 
silk,  edged  all  round  with  a  margin  of  clouded  yellow. 
His  feet  were  protected  by  sandals,  attached  by  thongs  of 
soft  leather.  A  sash  held  the  Jcamis  to  his  waist.  What 
was  very  noticeable,  considering  he  was  alone,  and  that 
the  desert  was  the  haunt  of  leopards  and  lions,  and  men 
quite  as  wild,  he  carried  no  arms,  not  even  the  crooked 
stick  used  for  guiding  camels ;  wherefore  we  may  at  least 
infer  his  errand  peaceful,  and  that  he  was  either  uncom 
monly  bold  or  under  extraordinary  protection. 

The  traveller's  limbs  were  numb,  for  the  ride  had  been 
long  and  wearisome ;  so  he  rubbed  his  hands  and  stamped 
his  feet,  and  walked  round  the  faithful  servant,  whose  lus 
trous  eyes  were  closing  in  calm  content  with  the  cud  he 
had  already  found.  Often,  while  making  the  circuit,  he 
paused,  and,  shading  his  eyes  with  his  hands,  examined 
the  desert  to  the  extrcmest  verge  of  vision;  and  always, 
when  the  survey  was  ended,  his  face  clouded  with  disap 
pointment,  slight,  but  enough  to  advise  a  shrewd  spectator 
that  he  was  there  expecting  company,  if  not  by  appoint 
ment;  at  the  same  time,  the  spectator  would  have  been 
conscious  of  a  sharpening  of  the  curiosity  to  learn  what 
the  business  could  be  that  required  transaction  in  a  place 
so  far  from  civilized  abode. 

However  disappointed,  there  could  be  little  doubt  of  the 
stranger's  confidence  in  the  coming  of  the  expected  com 
pany.  In  token  thereof,  he  went  first  to  the  litter,  and, 
from  the  cot  or  box  opposite  the  one  he  had  occupied  in 
coming,  produced  a  sponge  and  a  small  gurglet  of  water, 
with  which  he  washed  the  eyes,  face,  and  nostrils  of  the 
camel ;  that  done,  from  the  same  depository  he  drew  a  cir 
cular  cloth,  red-and-white-striped,  a  bundle  of  rods,  and  a 
stout  cane.  The  latter,  after  some  manipulation,  proved  to 
be  a  cunning  device  of  lesser  joints,  one  within  another, 
which,  when  united  together,  formed  a  centre  pole  higher 
than  his  head.  When  the  pole  was  planted,  and  the  rods 
set  around  it,  he  spread  the  cloth  over  them,  and  was  liter- 
erally  at  home — a  home  much  smaller  than  the  habitations 
of  emir  and  sheik,  yet  their  counterpart  in  all  other  re- 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST.  15 

spects.  From  the  litter  again  he  brought  a  carpet  or  square 
rug,  and  covered  the  floor  of  the  tent  on  the  side  from  the 
sun.  That  done,  he  went  out,  and  once  more,  and  with 
greater  care  and  more  eager  eyes,  swept  the  encircling  coun 
try.  Except  a  distant  jackal,  galloping  across  the  plain, 
and  an  eagle  flying  towards  the  Gulf  of  Akaba,  the  waste 
below,  like  the  blue  above  it,  was  lifeless. 

He  turned  to  the  camel,  saying  low,  and  in  a  tongue 
strange  to  the  desert,  "  We  are  far  from  home,  O  racer 
with  the  swiftest  winds — we  are  far  from  home,  but  God  is 
with  us.  Let  us  be  patient." 

Then  he  took  some  beans  from  a  pocket  in  the  saddle, 
and  put  them  in  a  bag  made  to  hang  below  the  animal's 
nose  ;  and  when  he  saw  the  relish  with  which  the  good  ser 
vant  took  to  the  food,  he  turned  and  again  scanned  the 
world  of  sand,  dim  with  the  glow  of  the  vertical  sun. 

"  They  will  come,"  he  said,  calmly.  "  He  that  led  me  is 
leading  them.  I  will  make  ready." 

From  the  pouches  which  lined  the  interior  of  the  cot, 
and  from  a  willow  basket  which  was  part  of  its  furniture, 
he  brought  forth  materials  for  a  meal :  platters  close-woven 
of  the  fibres  of  palms ;  wine  in  small  gurglets  of  skin  ; 
mutton  dried  and  smoked ;  stonelcss  shami,  or  Syrian 
pomegranates ;  dates  of  El  Shelebi,  wondrous  rich  and 
grown  in  the  nakhil,  or  palm  orchards,  of  Central  Arabia ; 
cheese,  like  David's  "slices  of  milk;"  and  leavened  bread 
from  the  city  bakery — all  which  he  carried  and  set  upon 
the  carpet  under  the  tent.  As  the  final  preparation,  about 
the  provisions  he  laid  three  pieces  of  silk  cloth,  used  among 
refined  people  of  the  East  to  cover  the  knees  of  guests 
while  at  table — a  circumstance  significant  of  the  number  of 
persons  who  were  to  partake  of  his  entertainment — the 
number  he  was  awaiting. 

All  was  now  ready.  He  stepped  out :  lo  !  in  the  east  a 
dark  speck  on  the  face  of  the  desert.  He  stood  as  if  rooted 
to  the  ground  ;  his  eyes  dilated  ;  his  flesh  crept  chilly,  as  if 
touched  by  something  supernatural.  The  speck  grew  ;  be 
came  large  as  a  hand ;  at  length  assumed  defined  propor 
tions.  A  little  later,  full  into  view  swung  a  duplication  of 
his  own  dromedary,  tall  and  white,  and  bearing  a  houdah, 


16  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

the  travelling  litter  of  Hindostan.  Then  the  Egyptian 
crossed  his  hands  upon  his  breast,  and  looked  to  heaven. 

"  God  only  is  great !"  he  exclaimed,  his  eyes  full  of  tears, 
his  soul  in  awe. 

The  stranger  drew  nigh — at  last  stopped.  Then  he,  too, 
seemed  just  waking,  lie  beheld  the  kneeling  camel,  the 
tent,  and  the  man  standing  prayerfully  at  the  door,  lie 
crossed  his  hands,  bent  his  head,  and  prayed  silently  ;  after 
which,  in  a  little  while,  he  stepped  from  his  camel's  neck 
to  the  sand,  and  advanced  towards  the  Egyptian,  as  did  the 
Egyptian  towards  him.  A  moment  they  looked  at  each 
other ;  then  they  embraced — that  is,  each  threw  his  right 
arm  over  the  other's  shoulder,  and  the  left  round  the  side, 
placing  his  chin  first  upon  the  left,  then  upon  the  right 
breast. 

"  Peace  be  with  thee,  O  servant  of  the  true  God !"  the 
stranger  said. 

"And  to  thee,  O  brother  of  the  true  faith ! — to  thee 
peace  and  welcome,"  the  Egyptian  replied,  with  fervor. 

The  new-comer  was  tall  and  gaunt,  with  lean  face,  sunken 
eyes,  Avhite  hair  and  beard,  and  a  complexion  between  the 
hue  of  cinnamon  and  bronze.  He,  too,  was  unarmed.  His 
costume  was  Hindostani ;  over  the  skull-cap  a  shawl  was 
wound  in  great  folds,  forming  a  turban  ;  his  body  garments 
were  in  the  style  of  the  Egyptian's,  except  that  the  aba  was 
shorter,  exposing  wide  flowing  breeches  gathered  at  the 
ankles.  In  place  of  sandals,  his  feet  were  clad  in  half-slip 
pers  of  red  leather,  pointed  at  the  toes.  Save  the  slippers, 
the  costume  from  head  to  foot  was  of  white  linen.  The 
air  of  the  man  was  high,  stately,  severe.  Visvamitra,  the 
greatest  of  the  ascetic  heroes  of  the  Iliad  of  the  East,  had 
in  him  a  perfect  representative.  He  might  have  been  called 
a  Life  drenched  with  the  wisdom  of  Brahma — Devotion 
Incarnate.  Only  in  his  eyes  was  there  proof  of  humanity  ; 
when  he  lifted  his  face  from  the  Egyptian's  breast,  they 
were  glistening  with  tears. 

"  God  only  is  great !"  he  exclaimed,  when  the  embrace 
was  finished. 

"  And  blessed  are  they  that  serve  him  !"  the  Egyptian 
answered,  wondering  at  the  paraphrase  of  his  own 


BEX-HUB:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  17 

ination.  "But  let  us  wait,"  he  added,  "let  iu  wait;  for 
see,  the  other  comes  yonder  !" 

They  looked  to  the  north,  where,  already  plain  to  view,  a 
third  camel,  of  the  whiteness  of  the  others,  came  careening 
like  a  ship.  They  waited,  standing  together — waited  until 
the  new-comer  arrived,  dismounted,  and  advanced  towards 
them. 

"  Peace  to  you,  O  my  brother !"  he  said,  while  embrac 
ing  the  Hindoo. 

And  the  Hindoo  answered,  "  God's  will  be  done !" 

The  last  coiner  was  all  unlike  his  friends  :  his  frame  was 
slighter  ;  his  complexion  white  ;  a  mass  of  waving  light  hair 
was  a  perfect  crown  for  his  small  but  beautiful  head ;  the 
warmth  of  his  dark-blue  eyes  certified  a  delicate  mind,  and 
a  cordial,  brave  nature.  He  was  bareheaded  and  unarmed. 
Under  the  folds  of  the  Tyrian  blanket  which  he  wore  with 
unconscious  grace  appeared  a  tunic,  short-sleeved  and  low- 
necked,  gathered  to  the  waist  by  a  band,  and  reaching 
nearly  to  the  knee ;  leaving  the  neck,  arms,  and  legs  bare. 
Sandals  guarded  his  feet.  Fifty  years,  probably  more,  had 
spent  themselves  upon  him,  with  no  other  effect,  apparently, 
than  to  tinge  his  demeanor  with  gravity  and  temper  his 
words  with  forethought.  The  physical  organization  and 
the  brightness  of  soul  were  untouched.  No  need  to  tell 
the  student  from  what  kindred  he  was  sprung ;  if  he  came 
not  himself  from  the  groves  of  Athene,  his  ancestry  did. 

When  his  arms  fell  from  the  Egyptian,  the  latter  said, 
with  a  tremulous  voice,  "  The  Spirit  brought  me  first ; 
wherefore  I  know  myself  chosen  to  be  the  servant  of  my 
brethren.  The  tent  is  set,  and  the  bread  is  ready  for  the 
breaking.  Let  me  perform  my  office." 

Taking  each  by  the  hand,  he  led  them  within,  and 
removed  their  sandals  and  washed  their  feet,  and  he 
poured  water  upon  their  hands,  and  dried  them  with 
napkins. 

Then,  when  he  had  laved  his  own  hands,  he  said,  "  Let 
us  take  care  of  ourselves,  brethren,  as  our  service  requires, 
and  eat,  that  we  may  be  strong  for  what  remains  of  the 
day's  duty.  While  we  eat,  we  will  each  learn  who  the 
others  are,  and  whence  they  come,  and  how  they  are  called." 
2 


18  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

He  took  them  to  the  repast,  and  seated  them  so  that 
they  faced  each  other.  Simultaneously  their  heads  bent 
forward,  their  hands  crossed  upon  their  breasts,  and,  speak 
ing  together,  they  said  aloud  this  simple  grace  : 

"  Father  of  all — God  ! — what  we  have  here  is  of  thee  ; 
take  our  thanks  and  bless  us,  that  we  may  continue  to  do 
thy  will." 

With  the  last  word  they  raised  their  eyes,  and  looked 
at  each  other  in  wonder.  Each  had  spoken  in  a  language 
never  before  heard  by  the  others ;  yet  each  understood 
perfectly  what  was  said.  Their  souls  thrilled  with  divine 
emotion ;  for  by  the  miracle  they  recognized  the  Divine 
Presence. 


CHAPTER  III. 

To  speak  in  the  style  of  the  period,  the  meeting  just 
described  took  place  in  the  year  of  Rome  747.  The 
month  was  December,  and  winter  reigned  over  all  the 
regions  east  of  the  Mediterranean.  Such  as  ride  upon  the 
desert  in  this  season  go  not  far  until  smitten  with  a  keen 
appetite.  The  company  under  the  little  tent  were  not  ex 
ceptions  to  the  rule.  They  were  hungry,  and  ate  heartily  ; 
and,  after  the  wine,  they  talked. 

"  To  a  wayfarer  in  a  strange  land  nothing  is  so  sweet 
as  to  hear  his  name  on  the  tongue  of  a  friend,"  said  the 
Egyptian,  who  assumed  to  be  president  of  the  repast. 
"Before  us  lie  many  days  of  companionship.  It  is  time 
we  knew  each  other.  So,  if  it  be  agreeable,  he  who  came 
last  shall  be  first  to  speak." 

Then,  slowly  at  first,  like  one  watchful  of  himself,  the 
Greek  began : 

"  What  I  have  to  tell,  my  brethren,  is  so  strange  that  I 
hardly  know  where  to  begin  or  what  I  may  with  propriety 
speak.  I  do  not  yet  understand  myself.  The  most  I  am 
sure  of  is  that  I  am  doing  a  Master's  will,  and  that  the  ser 
vice  is  a  constant  ecstasy.  When  I  think  of  the  purpose  I 
am  sent  to  fulfil,  there  is  in  me  a  joy  so  inexpressible  that 
I  know  the  will  is  God's." 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  19 

The  good  man  paused,  unable  to  proceed,  while  the  oth 
ers,  in  sympathy  with  his  feelings,  dropped  their  gaze. 

"  Far  to  the  west  of  this,"  he  began  again,  "  there  is  a 
land  which  may  never  be  forgotten ;  if  only  because  the 
world  is  too  much  its  debtor,  and  because  the  indebtedness 
is  for  things  that  bring  to  men  their  purest  pleasures.  I 
will  say  nothing  of  the  arts,  nothing  of  philosophy,  of  elo 
quence,  of  poetry,  of  war :  O  my  brethren,  hers  is  the  glory 
which  must  shine  forever  in  perfected  letters,  by  which  He 
we  go  to  find  and  proclaim  will  be  made  known  to  all  the 
earth.  The  land  I  speak  of  is  Greece.  I  am  Gaspar,  son  of 
Cleanthes  the  'Athenian. 

"  My  people,"  he  continued,  "  were  given  wholly  to  study, 
and  from  them  I  derived  the  same  passion.  It  happens 
that  two  of  our  philosophers,  the  very  greatest  of  the  many, 
teach,  one  the  doctrine  of  a  Soul  in  every  man,  and  its  Im 
mortality  ;  the  other  the  doctrine  of  One  God,  infinitely  just. 
From  the  multitude  of  subjects  about  which  the  schools 
were  disputing,  I  separated  them,  as  alone  worth  the  labor 
of  solution ;  for  I  thought  there  was  a  relation  between 
God  and  the  soul  as  yet  unknown.  On  this  theme  the 
mind  can  reason  to  a  point,  a  dead,  impassable  wall ;  arrived 
there,  all  that  remains  is  to  stand  and  cry  aloud  for  help. 
So  I  did ;  but  no  voice  came  to  me  over  the  wall.  In  de 
spair,  I  tore  myself  from  the  cities  and  the  schools." 

At  these  words  a  grave  smile  of  approval  lighted  the 
gaunt  face  of  the  Hindoo. 

"  In  the  northern  part  of  my  country — in  Thessaly,"  the 
Greek  proceeded  to  say,  "  there  is  a  mountain  famous  as 
the  home  of  the  gods,  where  Thcus,  whom  my  countrymen 
believe  supreme,  has  his  abode  ;  Olympus  is  its  name. 
Thither  I  betook  myself.  I  found  a  cave  in  a  hill  where 
the  mountain,  coming  from  the  west,  bends  to  the  south 
east  ;  there  I  dwelt,  giving  myself  up  to  meditation — no,  I 
gave  myself  up  to  waiting  for  what  every  breath  was  a 
prayer — for  revelation.  Believing  in  God,  invisible  yet  su 
preme,  I  also  believed  it  possible  so  to  yearn  for  him  with  all 
my  soul  that  he  would  take  compassion  and  give  me  answer." 

"  And  he  did — he  did  !"  exclaimed  the  Hindoo,  lifting 
his  hands  from  the  silken  cloth  iipon  his  lap. 


20  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  Hear  me,  brethren,"  said  the  Greek,  calming  himself 
with  an  effort.  "  The  door  of  my  hermitage  looks  over  an 
arm  of  the  sea,  over  the  Thermaic  Gulf.  One  day  I  saw  a 
man  flung  overboard  from  a  ship  sailing  by.  He  swam 
ashore.  I  received  and  took  care  of  him.  He  was  a  Jew, 
learned  in  the  history  and  laws  of  his  people  ;  and  from 
him  I  came  to  know  that  the  God  of  my  prayers  did  in 
deed  exist,  and  had  been  for  ages  their  lawmaker,  ruler,  and 
king.  AVhat  was  that  Tjut  the  Revelation  I  dreamed  of  ? 
My  faith  had  not  been  fruitless ;  God  answered  me !" 

"  As  he  does  all  who  cry  to  him  with  such  faith,"  said 
the  Hindoo. 

"  But,  alas  !"  the  Egyptian  added,  "  how  few  arc  there 
wise  enough  to  know  when  he  answers  them  !" 

"  That  was  not  all,"  the  Greek  continued.  "  The  man  so 
sent  to  me  told  me  more.  He  said  the  prophets  who,  in 
the  ages  which  followed  the  first  revelation,  walked  and 
talked  with  God,  declared  he  would  come  again.  He  gave 
me  the  names  of  the  prophets,  and  from  the  sacred  books 
quoted  their  very  language.  He  told  me,  further,  that  the 
second  coming  was  at  hand — was  looked  for  momentarily 
in  Jerusalem." 

The  Greek  paused,  and  the  brightness  of  his  countenance 
faded. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  said,  after  a  little — "  it  is  true  the  man 
told  me  that  as  God  and  the  revelation  of  which  he  spoke 
had  been  for  the  Jews  alone,  so  it  would  be  again.  He 
that  was  to  come  should  be  King  of  the  Jews.  '  Had  he 
nothing  for  the  rest  of  the  world  ?'  I  asked.  '  No,'  was 
the  answer,  given  in  a  proud  voice — '  No,  we  are  his  chosen 
people.'  The  answer  did  not  crush  my  hope.  AVhy  should 
such  a  God  limit  his  love  and  benefaction  to  one  land,  and, 
as  it  were,  to  one  family  ?  I  set  my  heart  upon  knowing. 
At  last  I  broke  through  the  man's  pride,  and  found  that 
his  fathers  had  been  merely  chosen  servants  to  keep  the 
Truth  alive,  that  the  world  might  at  last  know  it  and  be 
saved.  AVhen  the  Jew  was  gone,  and  I  was  alone  again,  I 
chastened  my  soul  with  a  new  prayer — that  I  might  be 
permitted  to  see  the  King  when  he  was  come,  and  worship 
him.  One  night  I  sat  by  the  door  of  my  cave  trying  to 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  21 

get  nearer  the  mysteries  of  my  existence,  knowing  which 
is  to  know  God ;  suddenly,  on  the  sea  below  me,  or  rather 
in  the  darkness  that  covered  its  face,  I  saw  a  star  begin  to 
burn ;  slowly  it  arose  and  drew  nigh,  and  stood  over  the 
hill  and  above  my  door,  so  that  its  light  shone  full  upon 
me.  I  fell  down,  and  slept,  and  in  my  dream  I  heard  a 
voice  say : 

"  '  O  Gaspar  !  Thy  faith  hath. conquered  !  Blessed  art 
thou  !  With  two  others,  come  from  the  uttermost  parts  of 
the  earth,  thou  shalt  see  Him  that  is  promised,  and  be  a 
witness  for  him,  and  the  occasion  of  testimony  in  his  be 
half.  In  the  morning  arise,  and  go  meet  them,  and  keep 
trust  in  the  Spirit  that  shall  guide  thee.' 

"  And  in  the  morning  I  awoke  with  the  Spirit  as  a  light 
within  me  surpassing  that  of  the  sun.  I  put  off  my  her 
mit's  garb,  and  dressed  myself  as  of  old.  From  a  hiding- 
place  I  took  the  treasure  which  I  had  brought  from  the  city. 
A  ship  went  sailing  past.  I  hailed  it,  was  taken  aboard,  and 
landed  at  Antioch.  There  I  bought  t]ie  camel  and  his  fur 
niture.  Through  the  gardens  and  orchards  that  enamel 
the  banks  of  the  Orontes,  I  journeyed  to  Emesa,  Damascus, 
Bostra,  and  Philadelphia  ;  thence  hither.  And  so,  O  breth 
ren,  you  have  my  story.  Let  me  now  listen  to  you." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  Egyptian  and  the  Hindoo  looked  at  each  other; 
the  former  waved  his  hand  ;  the  latter  bowed,  and  began  : 

"  Our  brother  has  spoken  well.  May  my  words  be  as 
wise." 

He  broke  off,  reflected  a  moment,  then  resumed : 

"  You  may  know  me,  brethren,  by  the  name  of  Mclchior. 
I  speak  to  you  in  a  language  which,  if  not  the  oldest  in  the 
world,  was  at  least  the  soonest  to  be  reduced  to  letters — I 
mean  the  Sanscrit  of  India.  I  am  a  Hindoo  by  birth.  My 
people  were  the  first  to  walk  in  the  fields  of  knowledge, 
tirst  to  divide  them,  first  to  make  them  beautiful.  What 
ever  may  hereafter  befall,  the  four  Vedas  must  live,  for  they 


22  BEN-UUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

are  the  primal  fountains  of  religion  and  useful  intelligence. 
From  them  were  derived  the  Upa-Vedas,  which,  delivered 
by  Brahma,  treat  of  medicine,  archery,  architecture,  music, 
and  the  f  our-and-sixty  mechanical  arts  ;  the  Ved-Angas,  re 
vealed  by  inspired  saints,  and  devoted  to  astronomy,  gram 
mar,  prosody,  pronunciation,  charms  and  incantations,  re 
ligious  rites  and  ceremonies  ;  the  Up-Angas,  written  by  the 
sage  Vyasa,  and  given  to  cosmogony,  chronology,  and  geog 
raphy  ;  therein  also  are  the  Eamayana  and  the  Mahabharata, 
heroic  poems,  designed  for  the  perpetuation  of  our  gods  and 
demi-gods.  Such,  O  brethren,  are  the  Great  Shastras,  or 
books  of  sacred  ordinances.  They  are  dead  to  me  now ; 
yet  through  all  time  they  will  serve  to  illustrate  the  bud 
ding  genius  of  my  race.  They  were  promises  of  quick  per 
fection.  Ask  you  why  the  promises  failed  ?  Alas  !  the 
books  themselves  closed  all  the  gates  of  progress.  Under 
pretext  of  care  for  the  creature,  their  authors  imposed  the 
fatal  principle  that  a  man  must  not  address  himself  to  dis 
covery  or  invention,  as  Heaven  had  provided  him  all  things 
needful.  AVhen  that  condition  became  a  sacred  law,  the 
lamp  of  Hindoo  genius  was  let  down  a  well,  where  ever 
since  it  has  lighted  narrow  walls  and  bitter  waters. 

"  These  allusions,  brethren,  are  not  from  pride,  as  you 
will  understand  when  I  tell  you  that  the  Shastras  teach  a 
Supreme  God  called  Brahm  ;  also,  that  the  Puranas,  or  sa 
cred  poems  of  the  Up-Angas,  tell  us  of  Virtue  and  Good 
Works,  and  of  the  Soul.  So,  if  my  brother  will  permit  the 
saying" — the  speaker  bowed  deferentially  to  the  Greek — 
"  ages  before  his  people  were  known,  the  two  great  ideas, 
God  and  the  Soul,  had  absorbed  all  the  forces  of  the  Hin 
doo  mind.  In  further  explanation,  let  me  say  that  Brahm 
is  taught,  by  the  same  sacred  books,  as  a  Triad — Brahma, 
Vishnu,  and  Shiva.  Of  these,  Brahma  is  said  to  have  been 
the  author  of  our  race  ;  which,  in  course  of  creation,  he  di 
vided  into  four  castes.  First,  he  peopled  the  worlds  below 
and  the  heavens  above  ;  next,  he  made  the  earth  ready  for 
terrestrial  spirits  ;  then  from  his  mouth  proceeded  the  Brah' 
man  caste,  nearest  in  likeness  to  himself,  highest  and  noblest, 
sole  teachers  of  the  Vedas,  which  at  the  same  time  flowed 
from  his  lips  in  finished  state,  perfect  iu  all  useful  know! 


BEX-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  23 

edge.  From  his  arms  next  issued  the  Kshatriya,  or  war 
riors  ;  from  his  breast,  the  seat  of  life,  came  the  Vaisya,  or 
producers — shepherds,  farmers,  merchants  ;  from  his  foot, 
in  sign  of  degradation,  sprang  the  Sudra,  or  serviles, 
doomed  to  menial  duties  for  the  other  classes — serfs,  do 
mestics,  laborers,  artisans.  Take  notice,  further,  that  the 
law,  so  born  with  them,  forbade  a  man  of  one  caste  becom 
ing  a  member  of  another;  the  Brahman  could  not  enter  a 
lower  order ;  if  he  violated  the  laws  of  his  own  grade,  he 
became  an  outcast,  lost  to  all  but  outcasts  like  himself." 

At  this  point,  the  imagination  of  the  Greek,  flashing  for 
ward  upon  all  the  consequences  of  such  a  degradation,  over 
came  his  eager  attention,  and  he  exclaimed,  "  In  such  a 
state,  O  brethren,  what  mighty  need  of  a  loving  God !" 

"  Yes,"  added  the  Egyptian,  "  of  a  loving  God  like  ours." 

The  brows  of  the  Hindoo  knit  painfully ;  when  the  emo 
tion  was  spent,  he  proceeded,  in  a  softened  voice. 

"  I  was  born  a  Brahman.  My  life,  consequently,  was  or 
dered  down  to  its  least  act,  its  last  hour.  My  first  draught 
of  nourishment ;  the  giving  me  my  compound  name ;  tak 
ing  me  out  the  first  time  to  see  the  sun ;  investing  me  with 
the  triple  thread  by  which  I  became  one  of  the  twice-born ; 
my  induction  into  the  first  order — were  all  celebrated  with 
sacred  texts  and  rigid  ceremonies.  I  might  not  walk,  eat, 
drink,  or  sleep  without  danger  of  violating  a  rule.  And  the 
penalty,  O  brethren,  the  penalty  was  to  my  soul !  Accord 
ing  to  the  degrees  of  omission,  my  soul  went  to  one  of  the 
heavens  —  Indra's  the  lowest,  Brahma's  the  highest;  or  it 
was  driven  back  to  become  the  life  of  a  worm,  a  fly,  a  fish, 
or  a  brute.  The  reward  for  perfect  observance  was  Beati 
tude,  or  absorption  into  the  being  of  Brahm,  which  was  not 
existence  as  much  as  absolute  rest." 

The  Hindoo  gave  himself  a  moment's  thought ;  proceed 
ing,  he  said  :  "  The  part  of  a  Brahman's  life  called  the  first 
order  is  his  student  life.  When  I  was  ready  to  enter  the 
second  order — that  is  to  say,  when  I  was  ready  to  marry 
and  become  a  householder — I  questioned  everything,  even 
Brahm ;  I  was  a  heretic.  From  the  depths  of  the  well  I 
had  discovered  a  light  above,  and  yearned  to  go  up  and  see 
what  all  it  shone  upon.  At  last — ah,  with  what  years  of 


24  BEX-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

toil ! — I  stood  in  the  perfect  day,  and  beheld  the  principle 
of  life,  the  element  of  religion,  the  link  between  the  soul 
and  God — Love  !" 

The  shrunken  face  of  the  good  man  kindled  visibly,  and 
he  clasped  his  hands  with  force.  A  silence  ensued,  during 
which  the  others  looked  at  him,  the  Greek  through  tears. 
At  length  he  resumed : 

"  The  happiness  of  love  is  in  action ;  its  test  is  what  one 
is  willing  to  do  for  others.  I  could  not  rest.  Erahm  had 
filled  the  world  with  so  much  wretchedness.  The  Sudra 
appealed  to  me ;  so  did  the  countless  devotees  and  vic 
tims.  The  island  of  Ganga  Lagor  lies  where  the  sacred 
waters  of  the  Ganges  disappear  in  the  Indian  Ocean. 
Thither  I  betook  myself.  In  the  shade  of  the  temple  built 
there  to  the  sage  Kapila,  in  a  union  of  prayers  with  the 
disciples  whom  the  sanctified  memory  of  the  holy  man 
keeps  around  his  house,  I  thought  to  find  rest.  But  twice 
every  year  came  pilgrimages  of  Hindoos  seeking  the  puri 
fication  of  the  waters.  Their  misery  strengthened  my  love. 
Against  its  impulse  to  speak  I  clenched  my  jaws ;  for  one 
word  against  Brahm  or  the  Triad  or  the  Shastras  would 
doom  me ;  one  act  of  kindness  to  the  outcast  Brahmans 
who  now  and  then  dragged  themselves  to  die  on  the  burn 
ing  sands  —  a  blessing  said,  a  cup  of  water  given  —  and  I 
became  one  of  them,  lost  to  family,  country,  privileges, 
caste.  The  love  conquered !  I  spoke  to  the  disciples  in 
the  temple  ;  they  drove  me  out.  I  spoke  to  the  pilgrims ; 
they  stoned  me  from  the  island.  On  the  highways  I  at 
tempted  to  preach;  my  hearers  fled  from  me,  or  sought 
my  life.  In  all  India,  finally,  there  was  not  a  place  in 
which  I  could  find  peace  or  safety — not  even  among  the 
outcasts ;  for,  though  fallen,  they  were  still  believers  in 
Brahm.  In  my  extremity,  I  looked  for  a  solitude  in  which 
to  hide  from  all  but  God.  I  followed  the  Ganges  to  its 
source,  far  up  in  the  Himalayas.  AYhen  I  entered  the  pass 
at  Ilurdwar,  where  the  river,  in  unstained  purity,  leaps  to 
its  course  through  the  muddy  lowlands,  I  prayed  for  my 
race,  and  thought  myself  lost  to  them  forever.  Through 
gorges,  over  cliffs,  across  glaciers,  by  peaks  that  seemed 
star-high,  I  made  my  way  to  the  Lang  Tso,  a  lake  of  mar- 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  25 

vellous  beauty,  asleep  at  the  feet  of  the  Tise  Gangri,  the 
Gurla,  and  the  Kailas  Parbot,  giants  which  flaunt  their 
crowns  of  snow  everlastingly  in  the  face  of  the  sun.  There, 
in  the  centre  of  the  earth,  where  the  Indus,  Ganges,  and 
Brahmapootra  rise  to  run  their  different  courses ;  where 
mankind  took  up  their  first  abode,  and  separated  to  replete 
the  world,  leaving  Balk,  the  mother  of  cities,  to  attest  the 
great  fact;  where  Nature,  gone  back  to  its  primeval  con 
dition,  and  secure  in  its  immensities,  invites  the  sage  and 
the  exile,  with  promise  of  safety  to  the  one  and  solitude  to 
the  other — there  I  went  to  abide  alone  with  God,  praying, 
fasting,  waiting  for  death." 

Again  the  voice  fell,  and  the  bony  hands  met  in  a  fer 
vent  clasp. 

"  One  night  I  walked  by  the  shores  of  the  lake,  and  spoke 
to  the  listening  silence,  '  When  will  God  come  and  claim 
his  own  ?  Is  there  to  be  no  redemption  ?'  Suddenly  a  light 
began  to  glow  tremulously  out  on  the  water ;  soon  a  star 
arose,  and  moved  towards  me,  and  stood  overhead.  The 
brightness  stunned  me.  While  I  lay  upon  the  ground,  I 
heard  a  voice  of  infinite  sweetness  say, '  Thy  love  hath  con 
quered.  Blessed  art  thou,  O  son  of  India  !  The  redemption 
is  at  hand.  With  two  others,  from  far  quarters  of  the  earth, 
thou  shalt  see  the  Redeemer,  and  be  a  witness  that  he  hath 
come.  In  the  morning  arise,  and  go  meet  them ;  and  put 
all  thy  trust  in  the  Spirit  which  shall  guide  thee.' 

"  And  from  that  time  the  light  has  stayed  with  me  ;  so 
I  knew  it  was  the  visible  presence  of  the  Spirit.  In  the 
morning  I  started  to  the  world  by  the  way  I  had  come.  In 
a  cleft  of  the  mountain  I  found  a  stone  of  vast  worth,  which 
I  sold  in  Hurdwar.  By  Lahore,  and  Cabool,  and  Yezd,  I 
came  to  Ispahan.  There  I  bought  the  camel,  and  thence 
was  led  to  Bagdad,  not  waiting  for  caravans.  Alone  I  trav 
elled,  fearless,  for  the  Spirit  was  with  me,  and  is  with  me 
yet.  What  glory  is  ours,  O  brethren !  We  are  to  see  the 
Redeemer — to  speak  to  him — to  worship  him  ?  I  am  done." 


26  BEX-HUB:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE  vivacious  Greek  broke  forth  in  expressions  of  joy 
and  congratulations ;  after  which  the  Egyptian  said,  with 
characteristic  gravity : 

"  I  salute  you,  my  brother.  You  have  suffered  much, 
and  I  rejoice  in  your  triumph.  If  you  are  both  pleased  to 
hear  me,  I  will  now  tell  you  who  I  am,  and  how  I  came  to 
be  called.  Wait  for  me  a  moment." 

He  went  out  and  tended  the  camels ;  coming  back,  he 
resumed  his  seat. 

"  Your  words,  brethren,  were  of  the  Spirit,"  he  said,  in 
commencement ;  "  and  the  Spirit  gives  me  to  understand 
them.  You  each  spoke  particularly  of  your  countries  ;  in 
that  there  was  a  great  object,  which  I  will  explain ;  but  to 
make  the  interpretation  complete,  let  me  first  speak  of  my 
self  and  my  people.  I  am  Balthasar  the  Egyptian." 

The  last  words  were  spoken  quietly,  but  with  so  much 
dignity  that  both  listeners  bowed  to  the  speaker. 

"  There  are  many  distinctions  I  might  claim  for  my  race," 
he  continued  ;  "  but  I  will  content  myself  with  one.  His 
tory  began  with  us.  We  were  the  first  to  perpetuate  evervts 
by  records  kept.  So  we  have  no  traditions  ;  and  instead  of 
poetry,  we  offer  you  certainty.  On  the  facades  of  palaces 
and  temples,  on  obelisks,  on  the  inner  walls  of  tombs,  we 
Avrote  the  names  of  our  kings,  and  what  they  did;  and  to 
the  delicate  papyri  we  intrusted  the  wisdom  of  our  philoso 
phers  and  the  secrets  of  our  religion — all  the  secrets  but  one, 
whereof  I  will  presently  speak.  Older  than  the  Vedas  of 
Para-Brahm  or  the  TTp-Angas  of  Yyasa,  O  Melchior ;  older 
than  the  songs  of  Homer  or  the  metaphysics  of  Plato,  O 
my  Gaspar;  older  than  the  sacred  books  or  kings  of  the 
people  of  China,  or  those  of  Siddartha,  son  of  the  beautiful 
Maya ;  older  than  the  Genesis  of  Mosche  the  Hebrew — old 
est  of  human  records  are  the  writings  of  Menes,  our  first 
king."  Pausing  an  instant,  he  fixed  his  large  eyes  kindly 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  27 

upon  the  Greek,  saying,  "  In  the  youth  of  Hellas,  who,  0 
Caspar,  were  the  teachers  of  her  teachers?" 

The  Greek  bowed,  smiling. 

"  By  those  records,"  Balthasar  continued,  "  we  know  that 
when  the  fathers  came  from  the  far  East,  from  the  region 
of  the  birth  of  the  three  sacred  rivers,  from  the  centre  of 
the  earth — the  Old  Iran  of  which  you  spoke,  O  Melchior — 
came  bringing  with  them  the  history  of  the  world  before 
the  Flood,  and  of  the  Flood  itself,  as  given  to  the  Aryans  by 
the  sons  of  Noah,  they  taught  God,  the  Creator  and  the 
Beginning,  and  the  Soul,  deathless  as  God.  When  the  duty 
which  calls  us  now  is  happily  done,  if  you  choose  to  go  with 
me,  I  will  show  you  the  sacred  library  of  our  priesthood ; 
among  others,  the  Book  of  the  Dead,  in  which  is  the  rit 
ual  to  be  observed  by  the  soul  after  Death  has  despatched 
it  on  its  journey  to  judgment.  The  ideas — God  and  the 
Immortal  Soul — were  borne  to  Mizraim  over  the  desert,  and 
by  him  to  the  banks  of  the  Nile.  They  were  then  in  their 
purity,  easy  of  understanding,  as  what  God  intends  for  our 
happiness  always  is  ;  so,  also,  was  the  first  worship — a  song 
and  a  prayer  natural  to  a  soul  joyous,  hopeful,  and  in  love 
with  its  Maker." 

Here  the  Greek  threw  up  his  hands,  exclaiming,  "  Oh ! 
the  light  deepens  within  me  1" 

"  And  in  me !"  said  the  Hindoo,  with  equal  fervor. 

The  Egyptian  regarded  them  benignantly,  then  went  on, 
saying,  "  Religion  is  merely  the  law  which  binds  man  to  his 
Creator :  in  purity  it  has  but  these  elements — God,  the  Soul, 
and  their  Mutual  Recognition ;  out  of  which,  when  put  in 
practice,  spring  Worship,  Love,  and  Reward.  This  law,  like 
all  others  of  divine  origin — like  that,  for  instance,  which 
binds  the  earth  to  the  sun — was  perfected  in  the  beginning  by 
its  Author.  Such,  my  brothers,  was  the  religion  of  the  first 
family ;  such  was  the  religion  of  our  father  Mizraim,  who 
could  not  have  been  blind  to  the  formula  of  creation,  no 
where  so  discernible  as  in  the  first  faith  and  the  earliest  wor 
ship.  Perfection  is  God;  simplicity  is  perfection.  The  curse 
of  curses  is  that  men  will  not  let  truths  like  these  alone." 

He  stopped,  as  if  considering  in  what  manner  to  continue. 

"  Many  nations  have  loved  the  sweet  waters  of  the  Nile," 


28  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

he  said  next ;  "  the  Ethiopian,  the  Pali-Putra,  the  Hebrew, 
the  Assyrian,  the  Persian,  the  Macedonian,  the  Roman — of 
whom  all,  except  the  Hebrew,  have  at  one  time  or  another 
been  its  masters.  So  much  coming  and  going  of  peoples 
corrupted  the  old  Mizraimic  faith.  The  Valley  of  Palms  be 
came  a  Valley  of  Gods.  The  Supreme  One  was  divided  into 
eight,  each  personating  a  creative  principle  in  nature,  with 
Ammon-Re  at  the  head.  Then  Isis  and  Osiris,  and  their 
circle,  representing  water,  fire,  air,  and  other  forces,  were  in 
vented.  Still  the  multiplication  went  on  until  we  had  an 
other  order,  suggested  by  human  qualities,  such  as  strength, 
knowledge,  love,  and  the  like." 

"  In  all  which  there  was  the  old  folly  !"  cried  the  Greek, 
impulsively.  "  Only  the  things  out  of  reach  remain  as  they 
came  to  us." 

The  Egyptian  bowed,  and  proceeded  : 

"  Yet  a  little  further,  O  my  brethren,  a  little  further,  be 
fore  I  come  to  myself.  What  we  go  to  will  seem  all  the 
holier  of  comparison  with  what  is  and  has  been.  The  rec 
ords  show  that  Mizraim  found  the  Nile  in  possession  of 
the  Ethiopians,  who  were  spread  thertce  through  the  African 
desert ;  a  people  of  rich,  fantastic  genius,  wholly  given  to  the 
worship  of  nature.  The  poetic  Persian  sacrificed  to  the  sun, 
as  the  completest  image  of  Ormuzd,  his  God ;  the  devout 
children  of  the  far  East  carved  their  deities  out  of  wood  and 
ivory  ;  but  the  Ethiopian,  without  writing,  without  books, 
without  mechanical  faculty  of  any  kind,  quieted  his  soul  by 
the  worship  of  animals,  birds,  and  insects,  holding  the  cat 
sacred  to  Re,  the  bull  to  Isis,  the  beetle  to  Pthah.  A  long- 
struggle  against  their  rude  faith  ended  in  its  adoption  as  the 
religion  of  the  new  empire.  Then  rose  the  mighty  monu 
ments  that  cumber  the  river-bank  and  the  desert — obelisk, 
labyrinth,  pyramid,  and  tomb  of  king,  blent  with  tomb  of 
crocodile.  Into  such  deep  debasement,  O  brethren,  the  sons 
of  the  Aryan  fell !" 

Here,  for  the  first  time,  the  calmness  of  the  Egyptian  for 
sook  him  :  though  his  countenance  remained  impassive,  his 
voice  gave  way. 

"Do  not  too  much  despise  my  countrymen,"  he  began 
again.  "  They  did  not  all  forget  God.  I  said  awhile  ago, 


BENT-IIUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  29 

you  may  remember,  that  to  papyri  \ve  intrusted  all  the  se 
crets  of  our  religion  except  one  ;  of  that  I  will  now  tell  you. 
We  had  as  king  once  a  certain  Pharaoh,  who  lent  himself 
to  all  manner  of  changes  and  additions.  To  establish  the 
new  system,  he  strove  to  drive  the  old  entirely  out  of  mind. 
The  Hebrews  then  dwelt  with  us  as  slaves.  They  clung  to 
their  God ;  and  when  the  persecution  became  intolerable, 
they  were  delivered  in  a  manner  never  to  be  forgotten.  I 
speak  from  the  records  now.  Mosche,  himself  a  Hebrew, 
came  to  the  palace,  and  demanded  permission  for  the  slaves, 
then  millions  in  number,  to  leave  the  country.  The  demand 
was  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  God  of  Israel.  Pharaoh  re 
fused.  Hear  what  followed.  First,  all  the  water,  that  in  the 
lakes  and  rivers,  like  that  in  the  wells  and  vessels,  turned 
to  blood.  Yet  the  monarch  refused.  Then  frogs  came 
up  and  covered  all  the  land.  Still  he  was  firm.  Then  Mo 
sche  threw  ashes  in  the  air,  and  a  plague  attacked  the  Egyp 
tians.  Next,  all  the  cattle,  except  of  the  Hebrews,  were 
struck  dead.  Locusts  devoured  the  green  things  of  the  val 
ley.  At  noon  the  day  was  turned  into  a  darkness  so  thick 
that  lamps  would  not  burn.  Finally,  in  the  night  all  the 
first-born  of  the  Egyptians  died ;  not  even  Pharaoh's  es 
caped.  Then  he  yielded.  But  when  the  Hebrews  were 
gone  he  followed  them  with  his  army.  At  the  last  mo 
ment  the  sea  was  divided,  so  that  the  fugitives  passed  it 
dry-shod.  When  the  pursuers  drove  in  after  them,  the 
waves  rushed  back  and  drowned  horse,  foot,  charioteers, 
and  king.  You  spoke  of  revelation,  my  Gaspar — " 

The  blue  eyes  of  the  Greek  sparkled. 

"  I  had  the  story  from  the  Jew,"  he  cried.  "  You  con 
firm  it,  O  Balthasar !" 

"  Yes,  but  through  me  Egypt  speaks,  not  Mosche.  I  in 
terpret  the  marbles.  The  priests  of  that  time  wrote  in  their 
way  what  they  witnessed,  and  the  revelation  has  lived.  So 
I  come  to  the  one  unrecorded  secret.  In  my  country, 
brethren,  we  have,  from  the  day  of  the  unfortunate  Pharaoh, 
always  had  two  religions — one  private,  the  other  public ; 
one  of  many  gods,  practised  by  the  people ;  the  other  of 
one  God,  cherished  only  by  the  priesthood.  Rejoice  with 
me,  O  brothers !  All  the  trampling  by  the  many  nations, 


30  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

all  the  harrowing  by  kings,  all  the  inventions  of  enemies, 
all  the  changes  of  time,  have  been  in  vain.  Like  a  seed  un 
der  the  mountains  waiting  its  hour,  the  glorious  Truth  has 
lived  ;  and  this — this  is  its  day  !" 

The  wasted  frame  of  the  Hindoo  trembled  with  delight, 
and  the  Greek  cried  aloud, 

"  It  seems  to  me  the  very  desert  is  singing." 

From  a  gurglet  of  water  near-by  the  Egyptian  took  a 
draught,  and  proceeded : 

"  I  was  born  at  Alexandria,  a  prince  and  a  priest,  and 
had  the  education  usual  to  my  class.  But  very  early  I  be 
came  discontented.  Part  of  the  faith  imposed  was  that 
after  death,  upon  the  destruction  of  the  body,  the  soul  at 
once  began  its  former  progression  from  the  lowest  up  to 
humanity,  the  highest  and  last  existence  ;  and  that  without 
reference  to  conduct  in  the  mortal  life.  When  I  heard  of 
the  Persian's  Realm  of  Light,  his  Paradise  across  the  bridge 
Chinevat,  where  only  the  good  go,  the  thought  haunted 
me ;  insomuch  that  in  the  day,  as  in  the  night,  I  brooded 
over  the  comparative  ideas  Eternal  Transmigration  and 
Eternal  Life  in  Heaven.  If,  as  my  teacher  taught,  God 
was  just,  why  wras  there  no  distinction  between  the  good 
and  the  bad  ?  At  length  it  became  clear  to  me,  a  certain 
ty,  a  corollary  of  the  law  to  which  I  reduced  pure  religion, 
that  death  was  only  the  point  of  separation  at  which  the 
wicked  are  left  or  lost,  and  the  faithful  rise  to  a  higher 
life ;  not  the  nirvana  of  Buddha,  or  the  negative  rest  of 
Brahma,  O  Melchior ;  nor  the  better  condition  in  hell, 
which  is  all  of  Heaven  allowed  by  the  Olympic  faith,  O 
Gaspar;  but  life — life  active,  joyous,  everlasting — LIFE 
WITH  GOD  !  The  discovery  led  to  another  inquiry.  Why 
should  the  Truth  be  longer  kept  a  secret  for  the  selfish 
solace  of  the  priesthood  ?  The  reason  for  the  suppression 
wras  gone.  Philosophy  had  at  least  brought  us  toleration. 
In  Egypt  we  had  Rome  instead  of  Rameses.  One  day,  in 
the  Brucheium,  the  most  splendid  and  crowded  quarter  of 
Alexandria,  I  arose  and  preached.  The  East  and  West 
contributed  to  my  audience.  Students  going  to  the  Li 
brary,  priests  from  the  Serapeion,  idlers  from  the  Museum, 
patrons  of  the  race-course,  countrymen  from  the  Rhacotis 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  31 

— a  multitude — stopped  to  hear  me.  I  preached  God,  the 
Soul,  Right  and  Wrong,  and  Ileaven,  the  reward  of  a  vir 
tuous  life.  You,  O  Melchior,  were  stoned ;  my  auditors 
first  wondered,  then  laughed.  I  tried  again ;  they  pelted 
me  with  epigrams,  covered  my  God  with  ridicule,  and 
darkened  my  Heaven  with  mockery.  Not  to  linger  need 
lessly,  I  fell  before  them." 

The  Hindoo  here  drew  a  long  sigh,  as  he  said,  "  Thb 
enemy  of  man  is  man,  my  brother." 

Balthasar  lapsed  into  silence. 

"  I  gave  much  thought  to  finding  the  cause  of  my  fail 
ure,  and  at  last  succeeded,"  he  said,  upon  beginning  again. 
"  Up  the  river,  a  day's  journey  from  the  city,  there  is  a 
village  of  herdsmen  and  gardeners.  I  took  a  boat  and 
went  there.  In  the  evening  I  called  the  people  together, 
men  and  women,  the  poorest  of  the  poor.  I  preached  to 
them  exactly  as  1  had  preached  in  the  Bruchcium.  They 
did  not  laugh.  Next  evening  I  spoke  again,  and  they  be 
lieved  and  rejoiced,  and  carried  the  news  abroad.  At  the 
third  meeting  a  society  was  formed  for  prayer.  I  returned 
to  the  city  then.  Drifting  down  the  river,  under  the  stars, 
which  never  seemed  so  bright  and  so  near,  I  evolved  this 
lesson :  To  begin  a  reform,  go  not  into  the  places  of  the 
great  and  rich  ;  go  rather  to  those  whose  cups  of  happiness 
are  empty — to  the  poor  and  humble.  And  then  I  laid  a 
plan  and  devoted  my  life.  As  a  first  step,  I  secured  my 
vast  property,  so  that  the  income  would  be  certain,  and  al 
ways  at  call  for  the  relief  of  the  suffering.  From  that  day, 
O  brethren,  I  travelled  up  and  down  the  Nile,  in  the  vil 
lages,  and  to  all  the  tribes,  preaching  One  God,  a  right 
eous  life,  and  reward  in  Ileaven.  I  have  done  good — it 
does  not  become  me  to  say  how  much.  I  also  know  that 
part  of  the  world  to  be  ripe  for  the  reception  of  Him  we 
go  to  find." 

A  flush  suffused  the  swarthy  cheek  of  the  speaker ;  but 
he  overcame  the  feeling,  and  continued : 

"  The  years  so  given,  O  my  brothers,  were  troubled  by 
one  thought — When  I  was  gone,  what  would  become  of 
the  cause  I  had  started  ?  Was  it  to  end  with  me  ?  I  had 
dreamed  many  times  of  organization  as  a  fitting  crown  for 


32  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

my  work.  To  hide  nothing  from  you,  I  had  tried  to  effect 
it,  and  failed.  Brethren,  the  -world  is  now  in  the  condi 
tion  that,  to  restore  the  old  Mizraimic  faith,  the  reformer 
must  have  a  more  than  human  sanction ;  he  must  not 
merely  come  in  God's  name,  he  must  have  the  proofs  sub 
ject  to  his  word ;  he  must  demonstrate  all  he  says,  even 
God.  So  preoccupied  is  the  mind  with  myths  and  sys 
tems  ;  so  much  do  false  deities  crowd  every  place — earth, 
air,  sky ;  so  have  they  become  of  everything  a  part,  that 
return  to  the  first  religion  can  only  be  along  bloody  paths, 
through  fields  of  persecution ;  that  is  to  say,  the  converts 
must  be  willing  to  die  rather  than  recant.  And  who  in 
this  age  can  carry  the  faith  of  men  to  such  a  point  but 
God  himself  ?  To  redeem  the  race — I  do  not  mean  to  de 
stroy  it — to  redeem  the  race,  he  must  make  himself  once 
more  manifest ;  HE  MUST  COME  IN  PERSON." 

Intense  emotion  seized  the  three. 

"  Are  we  not  going  to  find  him  ?"  exclaimed  the  Greek. 

"  You  understand  why  I  failed  in  the  attempt  to  organ 
ize,"  said  the  Egyptian,  when  the  spell  was  past.  "  I 
had  not  the  sanction.  To  know  that  my  work  must  be 
lost  made  me  intolerably  wretched.  I  believed  in  prayer ; 
and  to  make  my  appeals  pure  and  strong,  like  you,  my 
brethren,  I  went  out  of  the  beaten  ways,  I  went  where 
man  had  not  been,  where  only  God  was.  Above  the  fifth 
cataract,  above  the  meeting  of  rivers  in  Sennar,  up  the 
Bahr  el  Abiad,  into  the  far  unknown  of  Africa,  I  went. 
There,  in  the  morning,  a  mountain  blue  as  the  sky  flings 
a  cooling  shadow  wide  over  the  western  desert,  and,  with 
its  cascades  of  melted  snow,  feeds  a  broad  lake  nestling 
at  its  base  on  the  east.  The  lake  is  the  mother  of  the 
great  river.  For  a  year  and  more  the  mountain  gave  me 
a  home.  The  fruit  of  the  palm  fed  my  body,  prayer  my 
spirit.  One  night  I  walked  in  the  orchard  close  by  the 
little  sea.  '  The  world  is  dying.  When  wilt  thou  come  ? 
Why  may  I  not  see  the  redemption,  0  God  ?'  So  I  prayed. 
The  glassy  water  was  sparkling  with  stars.  One  of  them 
seemed  to  leave  its  place,  and  rise  to  the  surface,  where  it 
became  a  brilliancy  burning  to  the  eyes.  Then  it  moved 
towards  me,  and  stood  over  my  head,  apparently  in  hand's 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  83 

reach.  I  fell  down  and  hid  my  face.  A  voice,  not  of  the 
earth,  said,  '  Thy  good  works  have  conquered.  Blessed 
art  thou,  0  son  of  Mizraim !  The  redemption  cometh. 
With  two  others,  from  the  remotenesses  of  the  world,  thou 
shalt  see  the  Saviour,  and  testify  for  him.  In  the  morning 
arise,  and  go  meet  them.  And  when  ye  have  all  come  to 
the  holy  city  of  Jerusalem,  ask  of  the  people,  Where  is  he 
that  is  born  King  of  the  Jews  ?  for  we  have  seen  his  star 
in  the  East,  and  are  sent  to  worship  him.  Put  all  thy 
trust  in  the  Spirit  which  will  guide  thee.' 

"  And  the  light  became  an  inward  illumination  not  to 
be  doubted,  and  lias  stayed  with  me,  a  governor  and  a 
guide.  It  led  me  down  the  river  to  Memphis,  where  I 
made  ready  for  the  desert.  I  bought  my  camel,  and  came 
hither  without  rest,  by  way  of  Suez  and  Kufileh,  and  up 
through  the  lands  of  Moab  and  Ammon.  God  is  with  us, 
O  my  brethren  !" 

He  paused,  and  thereupon,  with  a  prompting  not  their 
own,  they  all  arose,  and  looked  at  each  other. 

"  I  said  there  was  a  purpose  in  the  particularity  with 
which  we  described  our  peoples  and  their  histories,"  so 
the  Egyptian  proceeded.  "  He  we  go  to  find  was  called 
'  King  of  the  Jews ;'  by  that  name  we  are  bidden  to  ask 
for  him.  But,  now  that  we  have  met,  and  heard  from  each 
other,  we  may  know  him  to  be  the  Redeemer,  not  of  the 
Jews  alone,  but  of  all  the  nations  of  the  earth.  The  patri 
arch  who  survived  the  Flood  had  with  him  three  sons,  and 
their  families,  by  whom  the  world  was  repeopled.  From 
the  old  Aryana-Vaejo,  the  well-remembered  Region  of  De 
light  in  the  heart  of  Asia,  they  parted.  India  and  the  far 
East  received  the  children  of  the  first ;  the  descendants  of 
the  youngest,  through  the  North,  streamed  into  Europe ; 
those  of  the  second  overflowed  the  deserts  about  the  Red 
Sea,  passing  into  Africa ;  and  though  most  of  the  latter 
are  yet  dwellers  in  shifting  tents,  some  of  them  became 
builders  along  the  Nile." 

By  a  simultaneous  impulse  the  three  joined  hands. 

"  Could  anything  be  more  divinely  ordered  ?"  Balthasar 
continued.  "  When  we  have  found  the  Lord,  the  broth 
ers,  and  all  the  generations  that  have  succeeded  them,  will 
3 


34  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

kneel  to  him  in  homage  with  us.  And  when  we  part  to  go 
our  separate  ways,  the  world  will  have  learned  a  new  les 
son — that  Heaven  may  be  won,  not  by  the  sword,  not  by 
human  wisdom,  but  by  Faith,  Love,  and  Good  Works." 

There  was  silence,  broken  by  sighs  and  sanctified  with 
tears  ;  for  the  joy  that  filled  them  might  not  be  stayed.  It 
was  the  unspeakable  joy  of  souls  on  the  shores  of  the  River 
of  Life,  resting  with  the  Redeemed  in  God's  presence. 

Presently  their  hands  fell  apart,  and  together  they  went 
out  of  the  tent.  The  desert  was  still  as  the  sky.  The 
sun  was  sinking  fast.  The  camels  slept. 

A  little  while  after,  the  tent  was  struck,  and,  with  the 
remains  of  the  repast,  restored  to  the  cot ;  then  the  friends 
mounted,  and  set  out  single  file,  led  by  the  Egyptian. 
Their  course  was  due  west,  into  the  chilly  night.  The 
camels  swung  forward  in  steady  trot,  keeping  the  line  and 
the  intervals  so  exactly  that  those  following  seemed  to 
tread  in  the  tracks  of  the  leader.  The  riders  spoke  not 
once. 

By-and-by  the  moon  came  up.  And  as  the  three  tall 
white  figures  sped,  with  soundless  tread,  through  the  opa 
lescent  light,  they  appeared  like  spectres  flying  from  hate 
ful  shadows.  Suddenly,  in  the  air  before  them,  not  far 
ther  up  than  a  low  hill-top,  flared  a  lambent  flame  ;  as  they 
looked  at  it,  the  apparition  contracted  into  a  focus  of  daz- 
Kling  lustre.  Their  hearts  beat  fast ;  their  souls  thrilled ; 
and  they  shouted  as  with  one  voice,  "  The  Star  !  the  Star  ! 
God  is  with  us  !" 


,     CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  an  aperture  of  the  western  wall  of  Jerusalem  hang 
the  "  oaken  valves  "  called  the  Bethlehem  or  Joppa  Gate. 
The  area  outside  of  them  is  one  of  the  notable  places  of 
the  city.  Long  before  David  coveted  Zion  there  was  a 
citadel  there.  When  at  last  the  son  of  Jesse  ousted  the 
Jebusite,  and  began  to  build,  the  site  of  the  citadel  became 
the  northwest  corner  of  the  new  wall,  defended  by  a  tower 
much  more  imposing  than  the  old  one.  The  location  of 


BEX-IIUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  35 

the  gate,  however,  was  not  disturbed,  for  the  reasons,  most 
likely,  that  the  roads  which  met  and  merged  in  front  of  it 
could  not  well  be  transferred  to  any  other  point,  while  the 
area  outside  had  become  a  recognized  market-place.  In 
Solomon's  day  there  was  great  traffic  at  the  locality,  shared 
in  by  traders  from  Egypt  and  the  rich  dealers  from  Tyre 
and  Sidon.  Nearly  three  thousand  years  have  passed,  and 
yet  a  kind  of  commerce  clings  to  the  spot.  A  pilgrim 
wanting  a  pin  or  a  pistol,  a  cucumber  or  a  camel,  a  house 
or  a  horse,  a  loan  or  a  lentil,  a  date  or  a  dragoman,  a  mel 
on  or  a  man,  a  dove  or  a  donkey,  has  only  to  inquire  for 
the  article  at  the  Joppa  Gate.  Sometimes  the  scene  is 
quite  animated,  and  then  it  suggests,  What  a  place  the  old 
market  must  have  been  in  the  days  of  Herod  the  Builder ! 
And  to  that  period  and  that  market  the  reader  is  now  to 
be  transferred. 

Following  the  Hebrew  system,  the  meeting  of  the  wise 
men  described  in  the  preceding  chapters  took  place  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  twenty-fifth  day  of  the  third  month  of  the 
year ;  that  is  say,  on  the  twenty-fifth  day  of  December. 
The  year  was  the  second  of  the  193d  Olympiad,  or  the  747th 
of  Koine ;  the  sixty-seventh  of  Herod  the  Great,  and  the 
thirty-fifth  of  his  reign  ;  the  fourth  before  the  beginning  of 
the  Christian  era.  The  hours  of  the  day,  by  Judean  cus 
tom,  begin  with  the  sun,  the  first  hour  being  the  first  after 
sunrise ;  so,  to  be  precise,  the  market  at  the  Joppa  Gate 
during  the  first  hour  of  the  day  stated  was  in  full  session, 
and  very  lively.  The  massive  valves  had  been  wide  open 
since  dawn.  Business,  always  aggressive,  had  pushed 
through  the  arched  entrance  into  a  narrow  lane  and  court, 
which,  passing  by  the  walls  of  the  great  tower,  conducted 
on  into  the  city.  As  Jerusalem  is  in  the  hill  country,  the 
morning  air  on  this  occasion  was  not  a  little  crisp.  The 
rays  of  the  sun,  with  their  promise  of  warmth,  lingered 
provokingly  far  up  on  the  battlements  and  turrets  of  the 
great  piles  about,  down  from  which  fell  the  crooning  of 
pigeons  and  the  whir  of  the  flocks  coming  and  going. 

As  a  passing  acquaintance  with  the  people  of  the  Holy 
City,  strangers  as  well  as  residents,  will  be  necessary  to  an 
understanding  of  some  of  the  pages  which  follow,  it  will  be 


36  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  TIIE  CHRIST. 

well  to  stop  at  the  gate  and  pass  the  scene  in  review.  Bet 
ter  opportunity  will  not  offer  to  get  sight  of  the  populace 
who  will  afterwhile  go  forward  in  a  mood  very  different 
from  that  which  now  possesses  them. 

The  scene  is  at  first  one  of  utter  confusion — confusion 
of  action,  sounds,  colors,  and  things.  It  is  especially  so  in 
the  lane  and  court.  The  ground  there  is  paved  with  broad 
unshaped  flags,  from  which  each  cry  and  jar  and  hoof- 
stamp  arises  to  swell  the  medley  that  rings  and  roars  up 
between  the  solid  impending  walls.  A  little  mixing  with 
the  throng,  however,  a  little  familiarity  with  the  business 
going  on,  will  make  analysis  possible. 

Here  stands  a  donkey,  dozing  under  panniers  full  of  len 
tils,  beans,  onions,  and  cucumbers,  brought  fresh  from  the 
gardens  and  terraces  of  Galilee.  When  not  engaged  in 
serving  customers,  the  master,  in  a  voice  which  only  the 
initiated  can  understand,  cries  his  stock.  Nothing  can  be 
simpler  than  his  costume — sandals,  and  an  unbleached,  un- 
dyed  blanket,  crossed  over  one  shoulder  and  girt  round 
the  waist.  Near-by,  and  far  more  imposing  and  grotesque, 
though  scarcely  as  patient  as  the  donkey,  kneels  a  camel, 
raw-boned,  rough,  and  gray,  with  long  shaggy  tufts  of  fox- 
colored  hair  under  its  throat,  neck,  and  body,  and  a  load  of 
boxes  and  baskets  curiously  arranged  upon  an  enormous 
saddle.  The  owner  is  an  Egyptian,  small,  lithe,  and  of  a 
complexion  which  has  borrowed  a  good  deal  from  the  dust 
of  the  roads  and  the  sands  of  the  desert.  He  wears  a 
faded  tarbooshe,  a  loose  gown,  sleeveless,  unbelted,  and  drop 
ping  from  the  neck  to  the  knee.  His  feet  are  bare.  The 
camel,  restless  under  the  load,  groans  and  occasionally  shows 
his  teeth  ;  but  the  man  paces  indifferently  to  and  fro,  hold 
ing  the  driving-strap,  and  all  the  time  advertising  his  fruits 
fresh  from  the  orchards  of  the  Kedron — grapes,  dates,  figs, 
apples,  and  pomegranates. 

At  the  corner  where  the  lane  opens  out  into  the  court, 
some  women  sit  with  their  backs  against  the  gray  stones 
of  the  wall.  Their  dress  is  that  common  to  the  humbler 
classes  of  the  country — a  linen  frock  extending  the  full 
length  of  the  person,  loosely  gathered  at  the  waist,  and  a 
veil  or  wimple  broad  enough,  after  covering  the  head,  to 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  37 

wrap  the  shoulders.  Their  merchandise  is  contained  in  a 
number  of  earthen  jars,  such  as  are  still  used  in  the  East 
for  bringing  water  from  the  wells,  and  some  leathern  bottles. 
Among  the  jars  and  bottles,  rolling  upon  the  stony  floor, 
regardless  of  the  crowd  and  cold,  often  in  danger  but  never 
hurt,  play  half  a  dozen  half-naked  children,  their  brown 
bodies,  jetty  eyes,  and  thick  black  hair  attesting  the  blood 
of  Israel.  Sometimes,  from  under  the  wimples,  the  mothers 
look  up,  and  in  the  vernacular  modesty  bespeak  their  trade : 
in  the  bottles  "  honey  of  grapes,"  in  the  jars  "  strong  drink." 
Their  entreaties  are  usually  lost  in  the  general  uproar,  and 
they  fare  illy  against  the  many  competitors:  brawny  fel 
lows  with  bare  legs,  dirty  tunics,  and  long  beards,  going 
about  with  bottles  lashed  to  their  backs,  and  shouting 
"  Honey  of  wine  !  Grapes  of  En-Gedi !"  When  a  customer 
halts  one  of  them,  round  comes  the  bottle,  and,  upon  lifting 
the  thumb  from  the  nozzle,  out  into  the  ready  cup  gushes 
the  deep-red  blood  of  the  luscious  berry. 

Scarcely  less  blatant  are  the  dealers  in  birds — doves, 
ducks,  and  frequently  the  singing  bulbul,  or  nightingale, 
most  frequently  pigeons  ;  and  buyers,  receiving  them  from 
the  nets,  seldom  fail  to  think  of  the  perilous  life  of  the 
catchers,  bold  climbers  of  the  cliffs ;  now  hanging  with 
hand  and  foot  to  the  face  of  the  crag,  now  swinging  in  a 
basket  far  down  the  mountain  fissure. 

Blent  with  peddlers  of  jewelry — sharp  men  cloaked  in 
scarlet  and  blue,  top-heavy  under  prodigious  white  turbans, 
and  fully  conscious  of  the  power  there  is  in  the  lustre  of  a 
ribbon  and  the  incisive  gleam  of  gold,  whether  in  bracelet 
or  necklace,  or  in  rings  for  the  finger  or  the  nose — and 
with  peddlers  of  household  utensils,  and  with  dealers  in 
wearing-apparel,  and  with  retailers  of  unguents  for  anoint 
ing  the  person,  and  with  hucksters  of  all  articles,  fanciful 
as  well  as  of  need,  hither  and  thither,  tugging  at  halters 
and  ropes,  now  screaming,  now  coaxing,  toil  the  venders  of 
animals — donkeys,  horses,  calves,  sheep,  bleating  kids,  and 
awkward  camels ;  animals  of  every  kind  except  the  out 
lawed  swine.  All  these  are  there  ;  not  singly,  as  described, 
but  many  times  repeated  ;  not  in  one  place,  but  everywhere 
in  the  market. 


38  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

Turning  from  this  scene  in  the  lane  and  court,  this  glance 
at  the  sellers  and  their  commodities,  the  reader  has  need  to 
give  attention,  in  the  next  place,  to  visitors  and  buyers,  for 
which  the  best  studies  will  be  found  outside  the  gates, 
where  the  spectacle  is  quite  as  varied  and  animated ;  in 
deed,  it  may  be  more  so,  for  there  are  superadded  the 
effects  of  tent,  booth,  and  sook,  greater  space,  larger  crowd, 
more  unqualified  freedom,  and  the  glory  of  the  Eastern 
sunshine. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LET  us  take  our  stand  by  the  gate,  just  out  of  the  edge 
of  the  currents — one  flowing  in,  the  other  out — and  use 
our  eyes- and  ears  awhile. 

In  good  time  !  Here  come  two  men  of  a  most  note 
worthy  class. 

"  Gods  !  How  cold  it  is  !"  says  one  of  them,  a  powerful 
qgure  in  armor ;  on  his  head  a  brazen  helmet,  on  his  body 
i  shining  breastplate  and  skirts  of  mail.  "  How  cold  it  is  ! 
Dost  thou  remember,  my  Caius,  that  vault  in  the  Comitium 
at  home  which  the  flamens  say  is  the  entrance  to  the  lowrer 
world  ?  By  Pluto  !  I  could  stand  there  this  morning,  long 
enough  at  least  to  get  warm  again  !" 

The  party  addressed  drops  the  hood  of  his  military 
cloak,  leaving  bare  his  head  and  face,  and  replies,  with  an 
ironic  smile,  "  The  helmets  of  the  legions  which  conquered 
Mark  Antony  were  full  of  Gallic  snow ;  but  thou — ah,  my 
poor  friend  ! — thou  hast  just  come  from  Egypt,  bringing 
its  summer  in  thy  blood." 

And  with  the  last  word  they  disappear  through  the  en 
trance.  Though  they  had  been  silent,  the  armor  and  the 
sturdy  step  would  have  published  them  Roman  soldiers. 

From  the  throng  a  Jew  comes  next,  meagre  of  frame, 
round-shouldered,  and  wearing  a  coarse  brown  robe  ;  over 
his  eyes  and  face,  and  down  his  back,  hangs  a  mat  of  long, 
uncombed  hair.  He  is  alone.  Those  who  meet  him  laugh, 
if  they  do  not  w7orsc  ;  for  he  is  a  Nazarite,  one  of  a  despised 


BEX-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  39 

sect  which  rejects  the  books  of  Moses,  devotes  itself  to  ab 
horred  vows,  and  goes  unshorn  while  the  vows  endure. 

As  we  watch  his  retiring  figure,  suddenly  there  is  a  com 
motion  in  the  crowd,  a  parting  quickly  to  the  right  and 
left,  with  exclamations  sharp  and  decisive.  Then  the  cause 
comes — a  man,  Hebrew  in  feature  and  dress.  The  mantle 
of  snow-white  linen,  held  to  his  head  by  cords  of  yellow 
silk,  flows  free  over  his  shoulders ;  his  robe  is  richly  em 
broidered  ;  a  red  sash  with  fringes  of  gold  wraps  his  waist 
several  times.  His  demeanor  is  calm  ;  he  even  smiles  upon 
those  who,  with  such  rude  haste,  make  room  for  him.  A 
leper  ?  No,  he  is  only  a  Samaritan.  The  shrinking  crowd, 
if  asked,  would  say  he  is  a  mongrel — an  Assyrian — whose 
touch  of  the  robe  is  pollution ;  from  whom,  consequently, 
an  Israelite,  though  dying,  might  not  accept  life.  In  fact, 
the  feild  is  not  of  blood.  When  David  set  his  throne  here 
on  Mount  Zion,  with  only  Judah  to  support  him,  the  ten 
tribes  betook  themselves  to  Shechem,  a  city  much  older, 
and,  at  that  date,  infinitely  richer  in  holy  memories.  The 
final  union  of  the  tribes  did  not  settle  the  dispute  thus 
begun.  The  Samaritans  clung  to  their  tabernacle  on 
Gerizim,  and,  while  maintaining  its  superior  sanctity, 
laughed  at  the  irate  doctors  in  Jerusalem.  Time  brought 
no  assuagement  of  the  hate.  Under  Ilcrod,  conversion  to 
the  faith  was  open  to  all  the  world  except  the  Samaritans  ; 
they  alone  were  absolutely  and  forever  shut  out  from  com- 
munion  with  Jews. 

As  the  Samaritan  goes  in  under  the  arch  of  the  gate,  out 
come  three  men  so  unlike  all  whom  we  have  yet  seen  that 
they  fix  our  gaze,  whether  we  will  or  not.  They  are  of  un 
usual  stature  and  immense  brawn  ;  their  eyes  are  blue,  and 
so  fair  is  their  complexion  that  the  blood  shines  through 
the  skin  like  blue  pencilling  ;  their  hair  is  light  and  short ; 
their  heads,  small  and  round,  rest  squarely  upon  necks  co 
lumnar  as  the  trunks  of  trees.  Woollen  tunics,  open  at  the 
breast,  sleeveless  and  loosely  girt,  drape  their  bodies,  leav 
ing  bare  arms  and  legs  of  such  development  that  they  at 
once  suggest  the  arena;  and  when  thereto  we  add  their 
careless,  confident,  insolent  manner,  we  cease  to  wonder  that 
the  people  give  them  way,  and  stop  after  they  have  passed 


40  BEN-HUB:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

to  look  at  them  again.  They  are  gladiators  —  wrestlers, 
runners,  boxers,  swordsmen  ;  professionals  unknown  in  Ju- 
dea  before  the  coming  of  the  Roman ;  fellows  who,  what 
time  they  are  not  in  training,  may  be  seen  strolling  through 
the  king's  gardens  or  sitting  with  the  guards  at  the  palace 
gates ;  or  possibly  they  are  visitors  from  Caesarea,  Sebaste, 
or  Jericho ;  in  which  Herod,  more  Greek  than  Jew,  and 
with  all  a  Koman's  love  of  games  and  bloody  spectacles, 
has  built  vast  theatres,  and  now  keeps  schools  of  fighting- 
men,  drawn,  as  is  the  custom,  from  the  Gallic  provinces 
or  the  Slavic  tribes  on  the  Danube. 

"  By  Bacchus  !"  says  one  of  them,  drawing  his  clenched 
hand  to  his  shoulder,  "  their  skulls  are  not  thicker  than 
egg-shells." 

The  brutal  look  which  goes  with  the  gesture  disgusts  us, 
and  we  turn  happily  to  something  more  pleasant.  ' 

Opposite  us  is  a  fruit-stand.  The  proprietor  has  a  bald 
head,  a  long  face,  and  a  nose  like  the  beak  of  a  hawk.  lie 
sits  upon  a  carpet  spread  upon  the  dust ;  the  wall  is  at  his 
back  ;  overhead  hangs  a  scant  curtain  ;  around  him,  within 
hand's  reach  and  arranged  upon  little  stools,  lie  osier  boxes 
full  of  almonds,  grapes,  figs,  and  pomegranates.  To  him 
now  comes  one  at  whom  we  cannot  help  looking,  though 
for  another  reason  than  that  which  fixed  our  eyes  upon 
the  gladiators :  he  is  really  beautiful — a  beautiful  Greek. 
Around  his  temples,  holding  the  waving  hair,  is  a  crown 
of  myrtle,  to  which  still  cling  the  pale  flowers  and  half- 
ripe  berries.  His  tunic,  scarlet  in  color,  is  of  the  softest 
woollen  fabric ;  below  the  girdle  of  buff  leather,  which  is 
clasped  in  front  by  a  fantastic  device  of  shining  gold,  the 
skirt  drops  to  the  knee  in  folds  heavy  with  embroidery 
of  the  same  royal  metal ;  a  scarf,  also  woollen,  and  of 
mixed  white  and  yellow,  crosses  his  throat  and  falls  trail 
ing  at  his  back ;  his  arms  and  legs,  where  exposed,  are 
white  as  ivory,  and  of  the  polish  impossible  except  by  per 
fect  treatment  with  bath,  oil,  brushes,  and  pincers. 

The  dealer,  keeping  his  seat,  bends  forward,  and  throws 
his  hands  up  until  they  meet  in  front  of  him,  palm  down 
wards  and  fingers  extended. 

"  What  hast  thou,  this  morning,  O   son   of   Paphos  ?" 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  41 

says  the  young  Greek,  looking  at  the  boxes  rather  than  at  the 
Cypriote.  "  I  am  hungry.  What  hast  thou  for  breakfast  ?" 

"  Fruits  from  the  Pedius — genuine — such  as  the  singers 
of  Antioch  take  of  mornings  to  restore  the  waste  of  their 
voices,"  the  dealer  answers,  in  a  querulous  nasal  tone. 

"  A  fig,  but  not  one  of  thy  best,  for  the  singers  of  Anti 
och  !"  says  the  Greek.  "  Thou  art  a  worshipper  of  Aphro 
dite,  and  so  am  I,  as  the  myrtle  I  wear  proves ;  therefore 
I  tell  thce  their  voices  have  the  chill  of  a  Caspian  wind. 
Seest  thou  this  girdle  ? — a  gift  of  the  mighty  Salome — " 

"  The  king's  sister !"  exclaims  the  Cypriote,  with  an 
other  salaam. 

"  And  of  royal  taste  and  divine  judgment.  And  why 
not  ?  She  is  more  Greek  than  the  king.  But — my  break 
fast  !  Here  is  thy  money — red  coppers  of  Cyprus.  Give 
me  grapes,  and — 

"  Vilt  thou  not  take  the  dates  also !" 

"  No,  I  am  not  an  Arab." 

"  Nor  figs  ?" 

"  That  would  be  to  make  me  a  Jew.  No,  nothing  but 
the  grapes.  Never  waters  mixed  so  sweetly  as  the  blood 
of  the  Greek  and  the  blood  of  the  grape." 

The  singer  in  the  grimed  and  seething  market,  with  all 
his  airs  of  the  court,  is  a  vision  not  easily  shut  out  of 
mind  by  such  as  see  him  ;  as  if  for  the  purpose,  however, 
a  person  follows  him  challenging  all  our  wonder.  He 
comes  up  the  road  slowly,  his  face  towards  the  ground  ;  at 
intervals  he  stops,  crosses  his  hands  upon  his  breast,  length 
ens  his  countenance,  and  turns  his  eyes  towards  heaven,  as 
if  about  to  break  into  prayer.  Nowhere,  except  in  Jeru 
salem,  can  such  a  character  be  found.  On  his  forehead, 
attached  to  the  band  which  keeps  the  mantle  in  place,  pro 
jects  a  leathern  case,  square  in  form ;  another  similar  case 
is  tied  by  a  thong  to  the  left  arm  ;  the  borders  of  his  robe 
are  decorated  with  deep  fringe ;  and  by  such  signs — the 
phylacteries,  the  enlarged  borders  of  the  garment,  and  the 
savor  of  intense  holiness  pervading  the  whole  man — we 
know  him  to  be  a  Pharisee,  one  of  an  organization  (in  re 
ligion  a  sect,  in  politics  a  party)  whose  bigotry  and  power 
will  shortly  bring  the  world  to  grief. 


42  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

The  densest  of  the  throng  outside  the  gate  covers  the 
road  leading  off  to  Joppa.  Turning  from  the  Pharisee, 
we  are  attracted  by  some  parties  who,  as  subjects  of  study, 
opportunely  separate  themselves  from  the  motley  crowd. 
First  among  them  a  man  of  very  noble  appearance — clear, 
healthful  complexion ;  bright  black  eyes ;  beard  long  and 
flowing,  and  rich  with  unguents ;  apparel  well  -  fitting, 
costly,  and  suitable  for  the  season,  lie  carries  a  staff,  and 
wears,  suspended  by  a  cord  from  his  neck,  a  large  golden 
seal.  Several  servants  attend  him,  some  of  them  with 
short  swords  stuck  through  their  sashes ;  when  they  ad 
dress  him,  it  is  with  the  utmost  deference.  The  rest  of 
the  party  consists  of  two  Arabs  of  the  pure  desert  stock ; 
thin,  wiry  men,  deeply  bronzed,  and  with  hollow  checks, 
and  eyes  of  almost  evil  brightness ;  on  their  heads  red 
tarbooshes  ;  over  their  abas,  and  wrapping  the  left  shoulder 
and  the  body  so  as  to  leave  the  right  arm  free,  brown 
woollen  haicks,  or  blankets.  There  is  loud  chaffering  ;  for 
the  Arabs  are  leading  horses  and  trying  to  sell  them  ;  and, 
in  their  eagerness,  they  speak  in  high,  shrill  voices.  The 
courtly  person  leaves  the  talking  mostly  to  his  servants ; 
occasionally  he  answers  with  much  dignity ;  directly,  seeing 
the  Cypriote,  he  stops  and  buys  some  figs.  And  when  the 
whole  party  has  passed  the  portal,  close  after  the  Pharisee, 
if  we  betake  ourselves  to  the  dealer  in  fruits,  he  will  tell, 
with  a  wonderful  salaam,  that  the  stranger  is  a  Jew,  one  of 
the  princes  of  the  city,  who  has  travelled,  and  learned  the 
difference  between  the  common  grapes  of  Syria  and  those 
of  ( 'yprus,  so  surpassingly  rich  with  the  dews  of  the  sea. 

And  so,  till  towards  noon,  sometimes  later,  the  steady 
currents  of  business  habitually  flow  in  and  out  of  the  Jop- 
-pa  Gate,  carrying  with  them  every  variety  of  character ; 
including  representatives  of  all  the  tribes  of  Israel,  all  the 
sects  among  whom  the  ancient  faith  has  been  parcelled 
and  refined  away,  all  the  religious  and  social  divisions,  all 
the  adventurous  rabble  who,  as  children  of  art  and  minis 
ters  of  pleasure,  riot  in  the  prodigalities  of  Herod,  and  all 
the  peoples  of  note  at  any  time  compassed  by  the  Cjesars 
and  their  predecessors,  especially  those  dwelling  within 
the  circuit  of  the  Mediterranean. 


BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF   TUB   CHRIST.  43 

In  other  words,  Jerusalem,  rich  in  sacred  history,  richer 
in  connection  with  sacred  prophecies — the  Jerusalem  of 
Solomon,  in  which  silver  was  as  stones,  and  cedars  as  the 
sycamores  of  the  vale — had  come  to  be  but  a  copy  of 
Home,  a  centre  of  unholy  practices,  a  seat  of  pagan  power. 
A  Jewish  king  one  day  put  on  priestly  garments,  and 
went  into  the  Holy  of  Holies  of  the  first  temple  to  offer 
incense,  and  he  came  out  a  leper  ;  but  in  the  time  of  which 
we  are  reading,  Pompey  entered  Herod's  temple  and  the 
same  Holy  of  Holies,  and  came  out  without  harm,  finding 
but  an  empty  chamber,  and  of  God  not  a  sign. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  reader  is  now  besought  to  return  to  the  court  de 
scribed  as  part  of  the  market  at  the  Joppa  Gate.  It  was 
the  third  hour  of  the  day,  and  many  of  the  people  had 
gone  away ;  yet  the  press  continued  without  apparent 
abatement.  Of  the  new-comers,  there  was  a  group  over 
by  the  south  wall,  consisting  of  a  man,  a  woman,  and  a 
donkey,  which  requires  extended  notice. 

The  man  stood  by  the  animal's  head,  holding  a  leading- 
strap,  and  leaning  upon  a  stick  which  seemed  to  have  been 
chosen  for  the  double  purpose  of  goad  and  staff.  His  dress 
was  like  that  of  the  ordinary  Jews  around  him,  except  that 
it  had  an  appearance  of  newness.  The  mantle  dropping 
from  his  head,  and  the  robe  or  frock  which  clothed  his 
person  from  neck  to  heel,  were  probably  the  garments  he 
was  accustomed  to  wear  to  the  synagogue  on  Sabbath  days. 
His  features  were  exposed,  and  they  told  of  fifty  years  of 
life,  a  surmise  confirmed  by  the  gray  that  streaked  his  oth 
erwise  black  beard.  He  looked  around  him  with  the  half- 
curious,  half-vacant  stare  of  a  stranger  and  provincial. 

The  donkey  ate  leisurely  from  an  armful  of  green  grass, 
of  which  there  was  an  abundance  in  the  market.  In  its 
sleepy  content,  the  brute  did  not  admit  of  disturbance  from 
the  bustle  and  clamor  about ;  no  more  was  it  mindful  of 
the  woman  sitting  upon  its  back  in  a  cushioned  pillion.  An 


44  BEN-HUB:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

outer  robe  of  dull  woollen  stuff  completely  covered  her  per 
son,  while  a  white  wimple  veiled  her  head  arid  neck.  Once 
in  a  while,  impelled  by  curiosity  to  see  or  hear  something 
passing,  she  drew  the  wimple  aside,  but  so  slightly  that  the 
face  remained  invisible. 

At  length  the  man  was  accosted. 

"  Are  you  not  Joseph  of  Nazareth  ?" 

The  speaker  was  standing  close  by. 

"  I  am  so  called,"  answered  Joseph,  turning  gravely 
around.  "  And  you — ah,  peace  be  unto  you  !  mv  friend, 
Rabbi  Samuel !"  ' 

"  The  same  give  I  back  to  you."  The  Rabbi  paused, 
looking  at  the  woman,  then  added,  "  To  you,  and  unto  your 
house  and  all  your  helpers,  be  peace." 

With  the  last  word,  he  placed  one  hand  upon  his  breast, 
and  inclined  his  head  to  the  woman,  who,  to  see  him,  had 
by  this  time  withdrawn  the  wimple  enough  to  show  the  face 
of  one  but  a  short  time  out  of  girlhood.  Thereupon  the 
acquaintances  grasped  right  hands,  as  if  to  carry  them  to 
their  lips  ;  at  the  last  moment,  however,  the  clasp  was  let 
go,  and  each  kissed  his  own  hand,  then  put  its  palm  upon 
his  forehead. 

"  There  is  so  little  dust  upon  your  garments,"  the  Rabbi 
said,  familiarly,  "  that  I  infer  you  passed  the  night  in  this 
city  of  our  fathers." 

"  No,"  Joseph  replied,  "  as  we  could  only  make  Bethany 
before  the  night  came,  we  stayed  in  the  khan  there,  and 
took  the  road  again  at  daybreak." 

"  The  journey  before  you  is  long,  then — not  to  Joppa,  I 
hope." 

"  Only  to  Bethlehem." 

The  countenance  of  the  Rabbi,  theretofore  open  and 
friendly,  became  lowering  and  sinister,  and  he  cleared  Jiis 
throat  with  a  growl  instead  of  a  cough. 

"  Yes,  yes — I  see,"  he  said.  "  You  were  born  in  Beth 
lehem,  and  wend  thither  now,  with  your  daughter,  to  be 
counted  for  taxation,  as  ordered  by  Caesar.  The  children 
of  Jacob  are  as  the  tribes  in  Egypt  were — only  they  have 
neither  a  Moses  nor  a  Joshua.  How  are  the  mighty 
fallen !" 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  45 

Joseph  answered,  without  change  of  posture  or  counte 
nance, 

"  The  woman  is  not  my  daughter." 

But  the  Rabbi  clung  to  the  political  idea ;  and  he  went 
on,  without  noticing  the  explanation,  "  What  are  the  Zealots 
doing  down  in  Galilee  ?' ' 

"  I  am  a  carpenter,  and  Nazareth  is  a  village,"  said  Jo 
seph,  cautiously.  "  The  street  on  which  my  bench  stands  is 
not  a  road  leading  to  any  city.  Hewing  wood  and  sawing 
plank  leave  me  no  time  to  take  part  in  the  disputes  of 
parties." 

"  But  you  are  a  Jew,"  said  the  Rabbi,  earnestly.  "  You 
are  a  Jew,  and  of  the  line  of  David.  It  is  not  possible  you 
can  find  pleasure  in  the  payment  of  any  tax  except  the 
shekel  given  by  ancient  custom  to  Jehovah." 

Joseph  held  his  peace. 

"  I  do  not  complain,"  his  friend  continued,  "  of  the 
amount  of  the  tax — a  denarius  is  a  trifle.  Oh  no !  The 
imposition  of  the  tax  is  the  offence.  And,  besides,  what 
is  paying  it  but  submission  to  tyranny  ?  Tell  me,  is  it  true 
that  Judas  claims  to  be  the  Messiah  ?  You  live  in  the 
midst  of  his  followers." 

"  I  have  heard  his  followers  say  he  was  the  Messiah," 
Joseph  replied. 

At  this  point  the  wimple  was  drawn  aside,  and  for  an  in 
stant  the  whole  face  of  the  Avoman  was  exposed.  The  eyes 
of  the  Rabbi  wandered  that  way,  and  he  had  time  to  see  a 
countenance  of  rare  beauty,  kindled  by  a  look  of  intense 
interest ;  then  a  blush  overspread  her  cheeks  and  brow, 
and  the  veil  was  returned  to  its  place. 

The  politician  forgot  his  subject. 

"  Your  daughter  is  comely,"  he  said,  speaking  lower. 

"She  is  not  my  daughter,"  Joseph  repeated. 

The  curiosity  of  the  Rabbi  was  aroused ;  seeing  which, 
the  Nazarene  hastened  to  say  further,  "  She  is  the  child 
of  Joachim  and  Anna  of  Bethlehem,  of  whom  you  have  at 
least  heard  ;  for  they  were  of  great  repute — 

"  Yes,"  remarked  the  Rabbi,  deferentially,  "  I  know 
them.  They  were  lineally  descended  from  David.  I  knew 
them  well." 


40  BEX-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  Well,  they  are  dead  now,"  the  Nazarcne  proceeded. 
"  They  died  in  Nazareth.  Joachim  was  not  rich,  yet  he 
left  a  house  and  garden  to  be  divided  between  his  daugh 
ters  Marian  and  Mary.  This  is  one  of  them  ;  and  to  save 
her  portion  of  the  property,  the  law  required  her  to  marry 
her  next  of  kin.  She  is  now  my  wife." 

"  And  you  were — " 

"  Her  uncle." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  And  as  you  were  both  born  in  Bethlehem, 
the  Roman  compels  you  to  take  her  there  with  you  to  be 
also  counted." 

The  Rabbi  clasped  his  hands,  and  looked  indignantly  to 
heaven,  exclaiming,  "  The  God  of  Israel  still  lives !  The 
vengeance  is  his !" 

With  that  he  turned  and  abruptly  departed.  A  stranger 
near  by,  observing  Joseph's  amazement,  said,  quietly,  "  Rab 
bi  Samuel  is  a  zealot.  Judas  himself  is  not  more  fierce." 

Joseph,  not  wishing  to  talk  with  the  man,  appeared  not 
to  hear,  and  busied  himself  gathering  in  a  little  heap  the 
grass  which  the  donkey  had  tossed  abroad ;  after  -which 
he  leaned  upon  his  staff  again,  and  waited. 

In  another  hour  the  party  passed  out  the  gate,  and,  turn 
ing  to  the  left,  took  the  road  to  Bethlehem.  The  descent 
into  the  valley  of  Ilinnom  was  quite  broken,  garnished  here 
and  there  with  straggling  wild  olive-trees.  Carefully,  ten 
derly,  the  Nazarene  walked  by  the  woman's  side,  leading- 
strap  in  hand.  On  their  left,  reaching  to  the  south  and 
east  round  Mount  Zion,  rose  the  city  wall,  and  on  their  right 
the  steep  prominences  which  form  the  western  boundary 
of  the  valley. 

Slowly  they  passed  the  Lower  Pool  of  Gihon,  out  of  which 
the  sun  was  fast  driving  the  lessening  shadow  of  the  royal 
hill ;  slowly  they  proceeded,  keeping  parallel  with  the  aque 
duct  from  the  Pools  of  Solomon,  until  near  the  site  of  the 
country-house  on  what  is  now  called  the  Hill  of  Evil  Coun 
sel  ;  there  they  began  to  ascend  to  the  plain  of  Rephaim. 
The  sun  streamed  garishly  over  the  stony  face  of  the  fa 
mous  locality,  and  under  its  influence  Mary,  the  daughter  of 
Joachim,  dropped  the  wimple  entirely,  and  bared  her  head. 
Joseph  told  the  story  of  the  Philistines  surprised  in  their 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   TEE   CHRIST.  47 

camp  there  by  David.  lie  was  tedious  in  the  narrat'vt, 
speaking  with  the  solemn  countenance  and  lifeless  manner 
of  a  dull  man.  She  did  not  always  hear  him. 

\Vherever  on  the  land  men  go,  and  on  the  sea  ships,  the 
face  and  figure  of  the  Jew  are  familiar.  The  physical  type 
of  the  race  has  always  been  the  same  ;  yet  there  have  been 
some  individual  variations.  "  Now  he  was  ruddy,  and  withal 
of  a  beautiful  countenance,  and  goodly  to  look  to."  Such 
was  the  son  of  Jesse  when  brought  before  Samuel.  The 
fancies  of  men  have  been  ever  since  ruled  by  the  descrip 
tion.  Poetic  license  has  extended  the  peculiarities  of  the 
ancestor  to  his  notable  descendants.  So  all  our  ideal  Solo 
mons  have  fair  faces,  and  hair  and  beard  chestnut  in  the 
shade,  and  of  the  tint  of  gold  in  the  sun.  Such,  we  are 
also  made  believe,  were  the  locks  of  Absalom  the  beloved. 
And,  in  the  absence  of  authentic  history,  tradition  has 
dealt  no  less  lovingly  by  her  whom  we  are  now  following- 
down  to  the  native  city  of  the  ruddy  king. 

She  was  not  more  than  fifteen.  Her  form,  voice,  and 
manner  belonged  to  the  period  of  transition  from  girlhood. 
Her  face  was  perfectly  oval,  her  complexion  more  pale  than 
fair.  The  nose  was  faultless  ;  the  lips,  slightly  parted,  were 
full  and  ripe,  giving  to  the  lines  of  the  mouth  warmth,  ten 
derness,  and  trust ;  the  eyes  were  blue  and  large,  and  shaded 
by  drooping  lids  and  long  lashes ;  and,  in  harmony  with 
all,  a  flood  of  golden  hair,  in  the  style  permitted  to  Jewish 
brides,  fell  unconfined  down  her  back  to  the  pillion  on 
which  she  sat.  The  throat  and  neck  had  the  downy  soft 
ness  sometimes  seen  which  leaves  the  artist  in  doubt 
whether  it  is  an  effect  of  contour  or  color.  To  these 
charms  of  feature  and  person  were  added  others  more  in 
definable — an  air  of  purity  which  only  the  soul  can  im 
part,  and  of  abstraction  natural  to  such  as  think  much  of 
things  impalpable.  Often,  with  trembling  lips,  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  heaven,  itself  not  more  deeply  blue  ;  often  she 
crossed  her  hands  upon  her  breast,  as  in  adoration  and 
prayer ;  often  she  raised  her  head  like  one  listening  eager 
ly  for  a  calling  voice.  Now  and  then,  midst  his  slow  ut 
terances,  Joseph  turned  to  look  at  her,  and,  catching  the 
expression  kindling  her  face  as  with  light,  forgot  his  theme, 
and  with  bowed  head,  wondering,  plodded  on. 


48  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

So  they  skirted  the  great  plain,  and  at  length  reached 
the  elevation  Mar  Elias  ;  from  which,  across  a  valley,  they 
beheld  Bethlehem,  the  old,  old  House  of  Bread,  its  white 
Avails  crowning  a  ridge,  and  shining  above  the  brown  scum 
bling  of  leafless  orchards.  They  paused  there,  and  rested, 
while  Joseph  pointed  out  the  places  of  sacred  renown  ;  then 
they  went  down  into  the  valley  to  the  well  which  was  the 
scene  of  one  of  the  marvellous  exploits  of  David's  strong 
men.  The  narrow  space  was  crowded  with  people  and  an 
imals.  A  fear  came  upon  Joseph — a  fear  lest,  if  the  town 
were  so  thronged,  there  might  not  be  house-room  for  the 
gentle  Mary.  Without  delay,  he  hurried  on,  past  the  pil 
lar  of  stone  marking  the  tomb  of  Rachel,  up  the  gardened 
slope,  saluting  none  of  the  many  persons  he  met  on  the  way, 
until  he  stopped  before  the  portal  of  the  khan  that  then 
stood  outside  the  village  gates,  near  a  junction  of  roads. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

To  understand  thoroughly  what  happened  to  the  Naza- 
rene  at  the  khan,  the  reader  must  be  reminded  that  Eastern 
inns  were  different  from  the  inns  of  the  Western  world. 
They  were  called  khans,  from  the  Persian,  and,  in  simplest 
form,  were  fenced  enclosures,  without  house  or  shed,  often 
without  a  gate  or  entrance.  Their  sites  were  chosen  with 
reference  to  shade,  defence,  or  water.  Such  were  the  inns 
that  sheltered  Jacob  when  he  went  to  seek  a  wife  in  Padan- 
Aram.  Their  like  may  be  seen  at  this  day  in  the  stopping- 
places  of  the  desert.  On  the  other  hand,  some  of  them, 
especially  those  on  the  roads  between  great  cities,  like  Je 
rusalem  and  Alexandria,  were  princely  establishments,  mon 
uments  to  the  piety  of  the  kings  who  built  them.  In  ordi 
nary,  however,  they  were  no  more  than  the  house  or  posses 
sion  of  a  sheik,  in  which,  as  in  headquarters,  he  swayed 
his  tribe.  Lodging  the  traveller  was  the  least  of  their  uses ; 
they  were  markets,  factories,  forts ;  places  of  assemblage 
and  residence  for  merchants  and  artisans  quite  as  much  as 
places  of  shelter  for  belated  and  wandering  wayfarers. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  49 

Within  their  walls,  all  the  year  round,  occurred  the  multi 
plied  daily  transactions  of  a  town. 

The  singular  management  of  these  hostelries  was  the 
feature  likely  to  strike  a  Western  mind  with  most  force. 
There  was  no  host  or  hostess ;  no  clerk,  cook,  or  kitchen ;  a 
steward  at  the  gate  was  all  the  assertion  of  government  or 
proprietorship  anywhere  visible.  Strangers  arriving  stayed 
at  will  without  rendering  account.  A  consequence  of  the 
system  was  that  whoever  came  had  to  bring  his  food  and 
culinary  outfit  with  him,  or  buy  them  of  dealers  in  the 
khan.  The  same  rule  held  good  as  to  his  bed  and  bed 
ding,  and  forage  for  his  beasts.  Water,  rest,  shelter,  and 
protection  were  all  he  looked  for  from  the  proprietor,  and 
they  were  gratuities.  The  peace  of  synagogues  was  some 
times  broken  by  brawling  disputants,  but  that  of  the  khans 
never.  The  houses  and  all  their  appurtenances  were  sa 
cred  :  a  well  was  not  more  so. 

The  khan  at  Bethlehem,  before  which  Joseph  and  his 
wife  stopped,  was  a  good  specimen  of  its  class,  being  nei 
ther  very  primitive  nor  very  princely.  The  building  was 
purely  Oriental ;  that  is  to  say,  a  quadrangular  block  of 
rough  stones,  one  story  high,  flat-roofed,  externally  un 
broken  by  a  window,  and  with  but  one  principal  entrance 
— a  doorway,  which  was  also  a  gateway,  on  the  eastern 
side,  or  front.  The  road  ran  by  the  door  so  near  that  the 
chalk  dust  half  covered  the  lintel.  A  fence  of  flat  rocks, 
beginning  at  the  northeastern  corner  of  the  pile,  extended 
many  yards  down  the  slope  to  a  point  from  whence  it 
swept  westwardly  to  a  limestone  bluff ;  making  what  was 
in  the  highest  degree  essential  to  a  respectable  khan — a 
safe  enclosure  for  animals. 

In  a  village  like  Bethlehem,  as  there  was  but  one  sheik, 
there  could  not  well  be  more  than  one  khan ;  and,  though 
born  in  the  place,  the  Nazarene,  from  long  residence  else 
where,  had  no  claim  to  hospitality  in  the  town.  More 
over,  the  enumeration  for  which  he  was  coming  might  be 
the  work  of  weeks  or  months  ;  Roman  deputies  in  the  prov 
inces  were  proverbially  slow;  and  to  impose  himself  and 
wife  for  a  period  so  uncertain  ioon  acquaintances  or  rela 
tions  was  out  of  the  question.  So,  before  he  drew  nigh  the 
4 


50  BEN-HUE:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

great  house,  while  he  was  yet  climbing  the  slope,  in  the 
steep  places  toiling  to  hasten  the  donkey,  the  fear  that  he 
might  not  find  accommodations  in  the  khan  became  a  pain 
ful  anxiety  ;  for  he  found  the  road  thronged  with  men  and 
boys  who,  with  great  ado,  were  taking  their  cattle,  horses, 
and  camels  to  and  from  the  valley,  some  to  water,  some  to 
the  neighboring  caves.  And  when  he  was  come  close  by, 
his  alarm  was  not  allayed  by  the  discovery  of  a  crowd  in 
vesting  the  door  of  the  establishment,  while  the  enclosure 
adjoining,  broad  as  it  was,  seemed  already  full. 

"  We  cannot  reach  the  door,"  Joseph  said,  in  his  slow 
way.  "  Let  us  stop  here,  and  learn,  if  we  can,  what  has 
happened." 

The  wife,  without  answering,  quietly  drew  the  wimple 
aside.  The  look  of  fatigue  at  first  upon  her  face  changed 
to  one  of  interest.  She  found  herself  at  the  edge  of  an  as 
semblage  that  could  not  be  other  than  a  matter  of  curiosity 
to  her,  although  it  was  common  enough  at  the  khans  on 
any  of  the  highways  which  the  great  caravans  were  accus 
tomed  to  traverse.  There  were  men  on  foot,  running  hith 
er  and  thither,  talking  shrilly  and  in  all  the  tongues  of 
Syria ;  men  on  horseback  screaming  to  men  on  camels ; 
men  struggling  doubtfully  with  fractious  cows  and  fright 
ened  sheep ;  men  peddling  bread  and  wine  ;  and  among 
the  mass  a  herd  of  boys  apparently  in  chase  of  a  herd  of 
dogs.  Everybody  and  everything  seemed  to  be  in  motion 
at  the  same  time.  Possibly  the  fair  spectator  was  too 
weary  to  be  long  attracted  by  the  scene  ;  in  a  little  while 
she  sighed,  and  settled  down  on  the  pillion,  and,  as  if  in 
search  of  peace  and  rest,  or  in  expectation  of  some  one, 
looked  off  to  the  south,  and  up  to  the  tall  cliffs  of  the 
Mount  of  Paradise,  then  faintly  reddening  under  the  set 
ting  sun. 

\Yhile  she  was  thus  looking,  a  man  pushed  his  way  out 
of  the  press,  and,  stopping  close  by  the  donkey,  faced  about 
with  an  angry  brow.  The  Nazarene  spoke  to  him. 

"  As  I  am  what  I  take  you  to  be,  good  friend — a  son  of 
Judah — may  I  ask  the  cause  of  this  multitude  ?" 

The  stranger  turned  fiercely ;  but,  seeing  the  solemn 
countenance  of  Joseph,  so  in  keeping  with  his  deep,  slow 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  51 

voice  and  speech,  he  raised  his  hand  in  half-salutation,  and 
replied, 

"  Peace  be  to  you,  Rabbi !  I  am  a  son  of  Judah,  and 
will  answer  you.  I  dwell  in  Beth-Dagon,  which,  you  know, 
is  in  what  used  to  be  the  land  of  the  tribe  of  Dan." 

"  On  the  road  to  Joppa  from  Modin,"  said  Joseph. 

"  Ah,  you  have  been  in  Beth-Dagon,"  the  man  said,  his 
face  softening  yet  more.  "  What  wanderers  we  of  Judah 
are  !  I  have  been  away  from  the  ridge — old  Ephrath,  as  our 
father  Jacob  called  it — for  many  years.  When  the  proc 
lamation  went  abroad  requiring  all  Hebrews  to  be  num 
bered  at  the  cities  of  their  birth —  That  is  my  business 
here,  Rabbi." 

Joseph's  face  remained  stolid  as  a  mask,  while  he  re 
marked,  "  I  have  come  for  that  also — I  and  my  wife." 

The  stranger  glanced  at  Mary  and  kept  silence.  She  was 
looking  up  at  the  bald  top  of  Gedor.  The  sun  touched 
her  upturned  face,  and  filled  the  violet  depths  of  her  eyes  ; 
and  upon  her  parted  lips  trembled  an  aspiration  which 
could  not  have  been  to  a  mortal.  For  the  moment,  all  the 
humanity  of  her  beauty  seemed  refined  away :  she  was  as 
we  fancy  they  are  who  sit  close  by  the  gate  in  the  trans 
figuring  light  of  Heaven.  The  Beth-Dagonite  saw  the  orig 
inal  of  what,  centuries  after,  came  as  a  vision  of  genius 
to  Sanzio  the  divine,  and  left  him  immortal. 

"  Of  what  was  I  speaking  ?  Ah  !  I  remember.  I  was 
about  to  say  that  when  I  heard  of  the  order  to  come  here, 
I  was  angry.  Then  I  thought  of  the  old  hill,  and  the  town, 
and  the  valley  falling  away  into  the  depths  of  Cedron ;  of 
the  vines  and  orchards,  and  fields  of  grain,  unfailing  since 
the  days  of  Boaz  and  Ruth ;  of  the  familiar  mountains — 
Gedor  here,  Gibeah  yonder,  Mar  Elias  there — which,  when 
I  was  a  boy,  were  the  walls  of  the  world  to  me  ;  and  I  for 
gave  the  tyrants  and  came — I,  and  Rachel,  my  wife,  and 
Deborah  and  Michal,  our  roses  of  Sharon." 

The  man  paused  again,  looking  abruptly  at  Mary,  who 
was  now  looking  at  him  and  listening.  Then  he  said, 
"  Rabbi,  will  not  your  wife  go  to  mine  ?  You  may  see  her 
yonder  with  the  children,  under  the  leaning  olive-tree  at 
the  bend  of  the  road.  I  tell  you  " — he  turned  to  Joseph 


52  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

and  spoke  positively — "  I  tell  you  the  khan  is  full.  It  is 
useless  to  ask  at  the  gate." 

Joseph's  will  was  slow,  like  his  mind  ;  he  hesitated,  but 
at  length  replied,  "  The  offer  is  kind.  Whether  there  be 
room  for  us  or  not  in  the  house,  we  will  go  see  your  peo 
ple.  Let  me  speak  to  the  gate-keeper  myself.  I  will  re 
turn  quickly." 

And,  putting  the  leading-strap  in  the  stranger's  hand,  he 
pushed  into  the  stirring  crowd. 

The  keeper  sat  on  a  great  cedar  block  outside  the  gate. 
Against  the  wall  behind  him  leaned  a  javelin.  A  dog 
squatted  on  the  block  by  his  side. 

"  The  peace  of  Jehovah  be  with  you,"  said  Joseph,  at 
last  confronting  the  keeper. 

"  What  you  give,  may  you  find  again  ;  and,  when  found, 
be  it  many  times  multiplied  to  you  and  yours,"  returned- 
the  watchman,  gravely,  though  without  moving. 

"  I  am  a  Bethlehemite,"  said  Joseph,  in  his  most  delib 
erate  way.  "  Is  there  not  room  for — " 

"  There  is  not." 

"  You  may  have  heard  of  me — Joseph  of  Nazareth.  This 
is  the  house  of  my  fathers.  I  am  of  the  line  of  David." 

These  words  held  the  Xazarene's  hope.  If  they  failed 
him,  further  appeal  was  idle,  even  that  of  the  offer  of  many 
shekels.  To  be  a  son  of  Judah  was  one  thing — in  the  tri 
bal  opinion  a  great  thing ;  to  be  of  the  house  of  David  was 
yet  another  ;  on  the  tongue  of  a  Hebrew  there  could  be  no 
higher  boast.  A  thousand  years  and  more  had  passed 
since  the  boyish  shepherd  became  the  successor  of  Saul  and 
founded  a  royal  family.  Wars,  calamities,  other  kings,  and 
the  countless  obscuring  processes  of  time  had,  as  respects 
fortune,  lowered  his  descendants  to  the  common  Jewish 
level ;  the  bread  they  ate  came  to  them  of  toil  never  more 
humble  ;  yet  they  had  the  benefit  of  history  sacredly  kept, 
of  which  genealogy  was  the  first  chapter  and  the  last ;  they 
could  not  become  unknown  ;  while,  wherever  they  went  in 
Israel,  acquaintance  drew  after  it  a  respect  amounting  to 
reverence. 

If  this  were  so  in  Jerusalem,  and  elsewhere,  certainly  one 
of  the  sacred  line  might  reasonably  rely  upon  it  at  the 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  53 

door  of  the  khan  of  Bethlehem.  To  say,  as  Joseph  said, 
"  Tills  is  the  house  of  my  fathers,"  was  to  say  the  truth 
most  simply  and  literally  ;  for  it  was  the  very  house  Ruth 
ruled  as  the  wife  of  Boaz ;  the  very  house  in  which  Jesse 
and  his  ten  sons,  David  the  youngest,  were  born  ;  the  very 
house  in  which  Samuel  came  seeking  a  king,  and  found 
him ;  the  very  house  which  David  gave  to  the  son  of  Bar- 
zillai,  the  friendly  Gileadite  ;  the  very  house  in  which  Jere 
miah,  by  prayer,  rescued  the  remnant  of  his  race  flying  be 
fore  the  Babylonians. 

The  appeal  was  not  without  effect.  The  keeper  of  the 
gate  slid  down  from  the  cedar  block,  and,  laying  his  hand 
upon  his  beard,  said,  respectfully,  "  Rabbi,  I  cannot  tell  you 
when  this  door  first  opened  in  welcome  to  the  traveller, 
but  it  was  more  than  a  thousand  years  ago  ;  and  in  all  that 
time  there  is  no  known  instance  of  a  good  man  turned 
away,  save  when  there  was  no  room  to  rest  him  in.  If  it 
has  been  so  with  the  stranger,  just  cause  must  the  steward 
have  who  says  no  to  one  of  the  line  of  David.  Wherefore, 
I  salute  you  again ;  and,  if  you  care  to  go  with  me,  I  will 
show  you  that  there  is  not  a  lodging-place  left  in  the 
house ;  neither  in  the  chambers,  nor  in  the  lewens,  nor 
in  the  court — not  even  on  the  roof.  May  I  ask  when  you 
came  ?" 

"  But  now." 

The  keeper  smiled. 

" '  The  stranger  that  dwelleth  with  you  shall  be  as  one 
born  among  you,  and  thou  shalt  love  him  as  thyself.'  Is 
not  that  the  law,  Rabbi «" 

Joseph  was  silent. 

"  If  it  be  the  law,  can  I  say  to  one  a  long  time  come, 
'  Go  thy  way  ;  another  is  here  to  take  thy  place  ?'  " 

Yet  Joseph  held  his  peace. 

"  And,  if  I  said  so,  to  whom  would  the  place  belong  ? 
See  the  many  that  have  been  waiting,  some  of  them  since 
noon." 

"  Who  are  all  these  people  ?"  asked  Joseph,  turning  to 
the  crowd.  "  And  why  are  they  here  at  this  time  ?" 

"  That  which  doubtless  brought  you,  Rabbi — the  decree 
of  the  Crcsar  " — the  keeper  threw  an  interrogative  glance 


54  BEN-HUK:    A  TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST. 

at  the  Nazarene,  then  continued — "  brought  most  of  those 
who  have  lodging  in  the  house.  And  yesterday  the  caravan 
passing  from  Damascus  to  Arabia  and  Lower  Egypt  ar 
rived.  These  you  see  here  belong  to  it — men  and  camels." 

Still  Joseph  persisted. 

"  The  court  is  large,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  heaped  with  cargoes — with  bales  of  silk, 
and  pockets  of  spices,  and  goods  of  every  kind." 

Then  for  a  moment  the  face  of  the  applicant  lost  its  sto 
lidity  ;  the  lustreless,  staring  eyes  dropped.  A\7ith  some 
warmth  he  next  said,  "  I  do  not  care  for  myself,  but  I  have 
with  me  my  wife,  and  the  night  is  cold — colder  on  these 
heights  than  in  Nazareth.  She  cannot  live  in  the  open  air. 
Is  there  not  room  in  the  town  ?" 

"  These  people  " — tohe  keeper  waved  his  hand  to  the 
throng  before  the  door — "  have  all  besought  the  town,  and 
they  report  its  accommodations  all  engaged." 

Again  Joseph  studied  the  ground,  saying,  half  to  himself, 
"  She  is  so  young  !  if  I  make  her  bed  on  the  hill,  the  frosts 
will  kill  her." 

Then  he  spoke  to  the  keeper  again. 

"  It  may  be  you  knew  her  parents,  Joachim  and  Anna, 
once  of  Bethlehem,  and,  like  myself,  of  the  line  of  David." 

"  Yes,  I  knew  them.  They  were  good  people.  That  was 
in  my  youth." 

This  time  the  keeper's  eyes  sought  the  ground  in  thought. 
Suddenly  he  raised  his  head. 

"If  I  cannot  make  room  for  you,"  he  said,  "  I  cannot 
turn  you  away.  Eabbi,  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  for  you. 
How  many  are  of  your  party  ?" 

Joseph  reflected,  then  replied,  "  My  wife  and  a  friend 
with  his  family,  from  Beth-Dagon,  a  little  town  over  by 
Joppa ;  in  all,  six  of  us." 

"  Very  well.  You  shall  not  lie  out  on  the  ridge.  Bring 
your  people,  and  hasten  ;  for,  when  the  sun  goes  down  be 
hind  the  mountain,  you  know  the  night  comes  quickly, 
and  it  is  nearly  there  now." 

"  I  give  you  the  blessing  of  the  houseless  traveller ;  that 
of  the  sojourner  will  follow." 

So  saying,  the  Nazarene  went  back  joyfully  to  Mary 


BEX-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  55 

and  the  Bcth-Dagonito.  In  a  little  while  the  latter  brought 
up  his  family,  the  women  mounted  on  donkeys.  The  wife 
was  matronly,  the  daughters  were  images  of  what  she  must 
have  been  in  youth ;  and  as  they  drew  nigh  the  door,  the 
keeper  knew  them  to  be  of  the  humble  class. 

"  This  is  she  of  whom  I  spoke,"  said  the  Nazarene ; 
"  and  these  are  our  friends." 

Mary's  veil  was  raised. 

"  Blue  eyes  and  hair  of  gold,"  muttered  the  steward  to 
himself,  seeing  but  her.  "  So  looked  the  young  king  when 
he  went  to  sing  before  Saul." 

Then  he  toek  the  leading-strap  from  Joseph  and  said  to 
Mary,  "  Peace  to  you,  O  daughter  of  David  !"  Then  to  the 
others,  "  Peace  to  you  all !"  Then  to  Joseph,  "  Rabbi,  fol 
low  me." 

The  party  were  conducted  into  a  wide  passage  paved 
with  stone,  from  which  they  entered  the  court  of  the  khan. 
To  a  stranger  the  scene  would  have  been  curious ;  but  they 
noticed  the  lewens  that  yawned  darkly  upon  them  from  all 
sides,  and  the  court  itself,  only  to  remark  how  crowded 
they  were.  By  a  lane  reserved  in  the  stowage  of  the  car 
goes,  and  thence  by  a  passage  similar  to  the  one  at  the  en 
trance,  they  emerged  into  the  enclosure  adjoining  the  house, 
and  came  upon  camels,  horses,  and  donkeys,  tethered  and 
dozing  in  close  groups ;  among  them  were  the  keepers, 
men  of  many  lands ;  and  they,  too,  slept  or  kept  silent 
watch.  They  went  down  the  slope  of  the  crowded  yard 
slowly,  for  the  dull  carriers  of  the  women  had  wills  of  their 
own.  At  length  they  turned  into  a  path  running  towards 
the  gray  limestone  bluff  overlooking  the  khan  on  the 
west. 

"  We  are  going  to  the  cave,"  said  Joseph,  laconically. 

The  guide  lingered  till  Mary  came  to  his  side. 

"  The  cave  to  which  we  are  going,"  he  said  to  her,  "  must 
have  been  a  resort  of  your  ancestor  J  )avid.  From  the  field 
below  us,  and  from  the  well  down  in  the  valley,  he  used  to 
drive  his  flocks  to  it  for  safety ;  and  afterwards,  when  he 
was  king,  he  came  back  to  the  old  house  here  for  rest  and 
health,  bringing  great  trains  of  animals.  The  mangers  yet 
remain  as  they  were  in  his  day.  Better  a  bed  upon  the 


56  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

floor  -where  he  has  slept  than  one  in  the  court-yard  or  out 
\>y  the  roadside.  Ah,  here  is  the  house  before  the  cave !" 

This  speech  must  not  be  taken  as  an  apology  for  the 
lodging  offered.  There  was  no  need  of  apology.  The 
place  was  the  best  then  at  disposal.  The  guests  were  sim 
ple  folks,  by  habits  of  life  easily  satisfied.  To  the  Jew  of 
that  period,  moreover,  abode  in  caverns  was  a  familiar  idea, 
made  so  by  every-day  occurrences,  and  by  what  he  heard 
of  Sabbaths  in  the  synagogues.  How  much  of  Jewish  his 
tory,  how  many  of  the  most  exciting  incidents  in  that  his 
tory,  had  transpired  in  caves  !  Yeffurthcr,  these  people 
were  Jews  of  Bethlehem,  with  whom  the  idea  was  especial 
ly  commonplace ;  for  their  locality  abounded  with  caves 
great  and  small,  some  of  which  had  been  dwelling-places 
from  the  time  of  the  Emim  and  Horites.  No  more  was 
there  offence  to  them  in  the  fact  that  the  cavern  to  which 
they  were  being  taken  had  been,  or  was,  a  stable.  They 
were  the  descendants  of  a  race  of  herdsmen,  whose  flocks 
habitually  shared  both  their  habitations  and  wanderings. 
In  keeping  with  a  custom  derived  from  Abraham,  the  tent 
of  the  Bedawin  yet  shelters  his  horses  and  children  alike. 
So  they  obeyed  the  keeper  cheerfully,  and  gazed  at  the 
house,  feeling  only  a  natural  curiosity.  Everything  associ 
ated  with  the  history  of  David  was  interesting  to  them. 

The  building  was  low  and  narrow,  projecting  but  a  little 
from  the  rock  to  which  it  was  joined  at  the  rear,  and  wholly 
without  a  window.  In  its  blank  front  there  was  a  door,  swung 
on  enormous  hinges,  and  thickly  daubed  with  ochreous  clay. 
While  the  wooden  bolt  of  the  lock  was  being  pushed  back, 
the  women  were  assisted  from  their  pillions.  Upon  the 
opening  of  the  door,  the  keeper  called  out, 

"  Come  in !" 

The  guests  entered,  and  stared  about  them.  It  became 
apparent  immediately  that  the  house  was  but  a  mask  or  cov 
ering  for  the  mouth  of  a  natural  cave  or  grotto,  probably 
forty  feet  long,  nine  or  ten  high,  and  twelve  or  fifteen  in 
width.  The  light  streamed  through  the  doorway,  over  an 
uneven  floor,  falling  upon  piles  of  grain  and  fodder,  and 
earthenware  and  household  property,  occupying  the  centre 
of  the  chamber.  Along  the  sides  were  mangers,  low  enough 


BEX-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  57 

for  sheep,  and  built  of  stones  laid  in  cement.  There  were 
no  stalls  or  partitions  of  any  kind.  Dust  and  chaff  yellowed 
the  floor,  filled  all  the  crevices  and  hollows,  and  thickened 
the  spider-webs,  which  dropped  from  the  ceiling  like  ftits  of 
dirty  linen  ;  otherwise  the  place  was  cleanly,  and,  to  appear 
ance,  as  comfortable  as  any  of  the  arched  lewens  of  the 
khan  proper.  In  fact,  a  cave  was  the  model  and  first  sug 
gestion  of  the  lewen. 

"  Come  in  !"  said  the  guide.  "  These  piles  upon  the  floor 
are  for  travellers  like  yourselves.  Take  what  of  them  you 
need." 

Then  he  spoke  to  Mary. 

"  Can  you  rest  here  ?" 

"  The  place  is  sanctified,"  she  answered. 

"  I  leave  you  then.     Peace  be  with  you  all !" 

When  he  was  gone,  they  busied  themselves  making  the 
cave  habitable. 


CHAPTER  X. 

AT  a  certain  hour  in  the  evening  the  shouting  and  stir  of 
the  people  in  and  about  the  khan  ceased  ;  at  the  same  time, 
every  Israelite,  if  not  already  iipon  his  feet,  arose,  solem 
nized  his  face,  looked  towards  Jerusalem,  crossed  his  hands 
upon  his  breast,  and  prayed ;  for  it  was  the  sacred  ninth 
hour,  when  sacrifices  were  offered  in  the  temple  on  Moriah, 
and  God  was  supposed  to  be  there.  When  the  hands  of 
the  worshippers  fell  down,  the  commotion  broke  forth 
again  ;  everybody  hastened  to  bread,  or  to  make  his  pallet. 
A  little  later,  the  lights  were  put  out,  and  there  was  si 

lence,  and  then  sleep. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

About  midnight  some  one  on  the  roof  cried  out,  "  What 
light  is  that  in  the  sky  ?  Awake,  brethren,  awake  and  see  !" 

The  people,  half  asleep,  sat  up  and  looked  j  then  they 
became  wide-awake,  though  wonder-struck.  And  the  stir 
spread  to  the  court  below,  and  into  the  lewens ;  soon  the 
entire  tenantry  of  the  house  and  court  and  enclosure  were 
out  gazing  at  the  sky. 

And  this  was  what  they  saw.     A  ray  of  light,  beginning; 


58  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

at  a  height  immeasurably  beyond  the  nearest  stars,  and 
dropping  obliquely  to  the  earth ;  at  its  top,  a  diminishing 
point ;  at  its  base,  many  furlongs  in  width  ;  its  sides  blend 
ing  s6ftly  with  the  darkness  of  the  night ;  its  core  a  rose 
ate  electrical  splendor.  The  apparition  seemed  to  rest  on 
the  nearest  mountain  southeast  of  the  town,  making  a  pale 
corona  along  the  line  of  the  summit.  The  khan  was 
touched  luminously,  so  that  those  upon  the  roof  saw  each 
other's  faces,  all  filled  with  wonder. 

Steadily,  through  minutes,  the  ray  lingered,  and  then 
the  wonder  changed  to  awe  and  fear  ;  the  timid  trembled  ; 
the  boldest  spoke  in  whispers. 

"  Saw  you  ever  the  like  ?"  asked  one. 

"  It  seems  just  over  the  mountain  there.  I  cannot  tell 
what  it  is,  nor  did  I  ever  see  anything  like  it,"  was  the 
answer. 

"  Can  it  be  that  a  star  has  burst  and  fallen  ?"  asked  an 
other,  his  tongue  faltering. 

"  When  a  star  falls,  its  light  goes  out." 

"  I  have  it !"  cried  one,  confidently.  "  The  shepherds 
have  seen  a  lion,  and  made  fires  to  keep  him  from  the 
flocks." 

•  The  men  next  the  speaker  drew  a  breath  of  relief,  and 
said,  "  Yes,  that  is  it !  The  flocks  were  grazing  in  the  val 
ley  over  there  to~day." 

A  bystander  dispelled  the  comfort. 

"  No,  no !  Though  all  the  wood  in  all  the  valleys  of 
Judah  was  brought  together  in  one  pile  and  fired,  the 
blaze  would  not  throw  a  light  so  strong  and  high." 

After  that  there  was  silence  on  the  house-top,  broken 
but  once  again  while  the  mystery  continued. 

"  Brethren  !"  exclaimed  a  Jew  of  venerable  mien,  "  what 
we  see  is  the  ladder  our  father  Jacob  saw  in  his  dream. 
B'essed  be  the  Lord  God  of  our  fathers !" 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  MILE  and  a  half,  it  may  be  two  miles,  southeast  of 
Bethlehem,  there  is  a  plain  separated  from  the  town  by  an 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  59 

intervening  swell  of  the  mountain.  Besides  being  well 
sheltered  from  the  north  winds,  the  vale  was  covered  with 
a  growth  of  sycamore,  dwarf-oak,  and  pine  trees,  while  in 
the  glens  and  ravines  adjoining  there  were  thickets  of  olive 
and  mulberry ;  all  at  this  season  of  the  year  invaluable  for 
the  support  of  sheep,  goats,  and  cattle,  of  which  the  wan 
dering  flocks  consisted. 

At  the  side  farthest  from  the  town,  close  under  a  bluff, 
there  was  an  extensive  mdrdh,  or  shecpcot,  ages  old.  In 
some  long-forgotten  foray,  the  building  had  been  unroofed 
and  almost  demolished.  The  enclosure  attached  to  it  re 
mained  intact,  however,  and  that  was  of  more  importance 
to  the  shepherds  who  drove  their  charges  thither  than  the 
house  itself.  The  stone  wall  around  the  lot  was  high  as  a 
man's  head,  yet  not  so  high  but  that  sometimes  a  panther 
or  a  lion,  hungering  from  the  wilderness,  leaped  boldly  in. 
On  the  inner  side  of  the  wall,  and  as  an  additional  security 
against  the  constant  danger,  a  hedge  of  the  rhamnus  had 
been  planted,  an  invention  so  successful  that  now  a  sparrow 
could  hardly  penetrate  the  overtopping  branches,  armed  as 
they  were  with  great  clusters  of  thorns  hard  as  spikes. 

The  day  of  the  occurrences  which  occupy  the  preceding 
chapters,  a  number  of  shepherds,  seeking  fresh  walks  for 
their  flocks,  led  them  up  to  this  plain  ;  and  from  early- 
morning  the  groves  had  been  made  ring  with  calls,  and  the 
blows  of  axes,  the  bleating  of  sheep  and  goats,  the  tinkling 
of  bells,  the  lowing  of  cattle,  and  the  barking  of  dogs. 
AVhen  the  sun  went  down,  they  led  the  way  to  the  mdrah, 
and  by  nightfall  had  everything  safe  in  the  Meld  ;  then  they 
kindled  a  fire  down  by  the  gate,  partook  of  their  humble 
supper,  and  sat  down  to  rest  and  talk,  leaving  one  on  watch. 

There  were  six  of  these  men,  omitting  the  watchman ; 
and  afterwhile  they  assembled  in  a  group  near  the  fire, 
some  sitting,  some  lying  prone.  As  they  went  bareheaded 
habitually,  their  hair  stood  out  in  thick,  coarse,  sunburnt 
shocks ;  their  beard  covered  their  throats,  and  fell  in  mats 
down  the  breast ;  mantles  of  the  skin  of  kids  and  lambs, 
with  the  fleece  on,  wrapped  them  from  neck  to  knee,  leav 
ing  the  arms  exposed ;  broad  belts  girthed  the  rude  gar- 
incnts  to  their  waists ;  their  sandals  were  of  the  coarsest 


60  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

quality  ;  from  their  right  shoulders  hung  scrips  containing 
food  and  selected  stones  for  slings,  with  which  they  were 
armed  ;  on  the  ground  near  each  one  lay  his  crook,  a  sym 
bol  of  his  calling  and  a  weapon  of  offence. 

Such  were  the  shepherds  of  Judea !  In  appearance, 
rough  and  savage  as  the  gaunt  dogs  sitting  with  them 
around  the  blaze  ;  in  fact,  simple-minded,  tender-hearted  : 
effects  tiiie,  in  part,  to  the  primitive  life  they  led,  but  chiefly 
to  their  constant  care  of  things  lovable  and  helpless. 

They  rested  and  talked ;  and  their  talk  was  all  about 
their  flocks,  a  dull  theme  to  the  world,  yet  a  theme  which 
was  all  the  world  to  them.  If  in  narrative  they  dwelt  long 
upon  affairs  of  trifling  moment ;  if  one  of  them  omitted 
nothing  of  detail  in  recounting  the  loss  of  a  lamb,  the  rela 
tion  between  him  and  the  unfortunate  should  be  remem 
bered  :  at  birth  it  became  his  charge,  his  to  keep  all  its 
days,  to  help  over  the  floods,  to  carry  down  the  hollows, 
to  name  and  train ;  it  was  to  be  his  companion,  his  object 
of  thought  and  interest,  the  subject  of  his  will ;  it  was  to 
enliven  and  share  his  wanderings ;  in  its  defence  he  might 
be  called  on  to  face  the  lion  or  robber — to  die. 

The  great  events,  such  as  blotted  out  nations  and  changed 
the  mastery  of  the  world,  were  trifles  to  them,  if  perchance 
they  came  to  their  knowledge.  Of  what  Herod  was  doing 
in  this  city  or  that,  building  palaces  and  gymnasia,  and  in 
dulging  forbidden  practices,  they  occasionally  heard.  As 
was  her  habit  in  those  days,  Home  did  not  wait  for  people 
slow  to  inquire  about  her ;  she  came  to  them.  Over  the 
hills  along  which  he  was  leading  his  lagging  herd,  or  in  the 
fastnesses  in  which  he  was  hiding  them,  not  unfrequently 
the  shepherd  was  startled  by  the  blare  of  trumpets,  and, 
peering  out,  beheld  a  cohort,  sometimes  a  legion,  in  march  ; 
and  when  the  glittering  crests  were  gone,  and  the  excite 
ment  incident  to  the  intrusion  over,  he  bent  himself  to 
evolve  the  meaning  of  the  eagles  and  gilded  globes  of  the 
soldiery,  and  the  charm  of  a  life  so  the  opposite  of  his  own. 

Yet  these  men,  rude  and  simple  as  they  were,  had  a 
knowledge  and  a  wisdom  of  their  own.  On  Sabbaths  they 
were  accustomed  to  purify  themselves,  and  go  up  into  the 
synagogues,  and  sit  on  the  benches  farthest  from  the  ark. 


BEN-HUR  :   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  61 

When  the  chazzan  bore  the  Torah  round,  none  kissed  it 
with  greater  zest ;  when  the  sheliach  read  the  text,  none 
listened  to  the  interpreter  with  more  absolute  faith ;  and 
none  took  away  with  them  more  of  the  elder's  sermon,  or 
gave  it  more  thought  afterwards.  In  a  verse  of  the  Shema 
they  found  all  the  learning  and  all  the  law  of  their  simple 
lives — that  their  Lord  was  One  God,  and  that  they  must 
love  him  with  all  their  souls.  And  they  loved  him,  and 
such  was  their  wisdom,  surpassing  that  of  kings. 

While  they  talked,  and  before  the  first  watch  was  over, 
one  by  one  the  shepherds  went  to  sleep,  each  lying  where 
he  had  sat. 

The  night,  like  most  nights  of  the  winter  season  in  the 
hill  country,  was  clear,  crisp,  and  sparkling  with  stars. 
There  was  no  wind.  The  atmosphere  seemed  never  so 
pure,  and  the  stillness  was  more  than  silence ;  it  was  a 
holy  hush,  a  warning  that  heaven  was  stooping  low  to 
whisper  some  good  thing  to  the  listening  earth. 

By  the  gate,  hugging  his  mantle  close,  the  watchman 
walked ;  at  times  lie  stopped,  attracted  by  a  stir  among 
the  sleeping  herds,  or  by  a  jackal's  cry  off  on  the  moun 
tain-side.  The  midnight  was  slow  coming  to  him ;  but  at 
last  it  came.  His  task  was  done ;  now  for  the  dreamless 
sleep  with  which  labor  blesses  its  wearied  children !  He 
moved  towards  the  fire,  'but  paused ;  a  light  was  breaking 
around  him,  soft  and  white,  like  the  moon's.  He  waited 
breathlessly.  The  light  deepened ;  things  before  in 
visible  came  to  view ;  he  saw  the  whole  field,  and  all  it 
sheltered.  A  chill  sharper  than  that  of  the  frosty  air — a 
chill  of  fear — smote  him.  lie  looked  up;  the  stars  were 
gone ;  the  light  was  dropping  as  from  a  window  in  the 
sky ;  as  he  looked,  it  became  a  splendor ;  then,  in  terror, 
he  cried, 

"  Awake,  awake !" 

Up  sprang  the  dogs,  and,  howling,  ran  away. 

The  herds  rushed  together  bewildered. 

The  men  clambered  to  their  feet,  weapons  in  hand. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  they  asked,  in  one  voice. 

"  See  !"  cried  the  watchman,  "  the  sky  is  on  fire  !" 

Suddenly  the  light  became  intolerably  bright,  and  they 


62  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

covered  their  eyes,  and  dropped  upon  their  knees ;  then, 
as  their  souls  shrank  with  fear,  they  fell  upon  their  faces 
blind  and  fainting,  and  would  have  died  had  not  a  voice 
said  to  them, 

"  Fear  not !" 

And  they  listened. 

"  Fear  not :  for  behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of 
great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  people." 

The  voice,  in  sweetness  and  soothing  more  than  human, 
and  low  and  clear,  penetrated  all  their  being,  and  filled 
them  with  assurance.  They  rose  upon  their  knees,  and, 
looking  worshipf ully,  beheld  in  the  centre  of  a  great  glory 
the  appearance  of  a  man,  clad  in  a  robe  intensely  white ; 
above  its  shoulders  towered  the  tops  of  wings  shining  and 
folded  ;  a  star  over  its  forehead  glowed  with  steady  lustre, 
brilliant  as  Hesperus ;  its  hands  were  stretched  towards  them 
in  blessing ;  its  face  was  serene  and  divinely  beautiful. 

They  had  often  heard,  and,  in  their  simple  way,  talked, 
of  angels ;  and  they  doubted  not  now,  but  said,  in  their 
hearts,  The  glory  of  God  is  about  us,  and  this  is  he  who  of 
old  came  to  the  prophet  by  the  river  of  Ulai. 

Directly  the  angel  continued: 

"  For  unto  you  is  born  this  day,  in  the  city  of  David,  a 
Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord  !" 

Again  there  was  a  rest,  while  the  words  sank  into  their 
minds. 

"  And  this  shall  be  a  sign  unto  you,"  the  annunciator 
said  next.  "  Ye  shall  find  the  babe,  wrapped  in  swaddling- 
clothes,  lying  in  a  manger." 

The  herald  spoke  not  again  ;  his  good  tidings  were  told  ; 
yet  he  stayed  awhile.  Suddenly  the  light,  of  which  he 
seemed  the  centre,  turned  roseate  and  began  to  tremble ; 
then  up,  far  as  the  men  could  see,  there  was  flashing  of 
white  wings,  and  coming  and  going  of  radiant  forms,  and 
voices  as  of  a  multitude  chanting  in  unison, 

"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good 
will  towards  men !" 

Not  once  the  praise,  but  many  times. 

Then  the  herald  raised  his  eyes  as  seeking  approval  of 
one  far  off;  his  wings  stirred,  and  spread  slowly  and 


BEi\-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  63 

majestically,  on  their  upper  side  white  as  snow,  in  the 
shadow  vari-tinted,  like  mother-of-pearl ;  when  they  were 
expanded  many  cubits  beyond  his  stature,  he  arose  lightly, 
and,  without  effort,  floated  out  of  view,  taking  the  light  up 
with  him.  Long  after  he  was  gone,  down  from  the  sky 
fell  the  refrain  in  measure  mellowed  by  distance,  "  Glory 
to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good-will  tow 
ards  men." 

When  the  shepherds  came  fully  to  their  senses,  they 
stared  at  each  other  stupidly,  until  one  of  them  said,  "  It 
was  Gabriel,  the  Lord's  messenger  unto  men." 

None  answered. 

"  Christ  the  Lord  is  born  ;  said  he  not  so  ?" 

Then  another  recovered  his  voice,  and  "replied,  "  That  is 
what  he  said." 

"  And  did  he  not  also  say,  in  the  city  of  David,  which 
is  our  Bethlehem  yonder.  And  that  we  should  find  him  a 
babe  in  swaddling-clothes  ?" 

"  And  lying  in  a  manger." 

The  first  speaker  gazed  into  the  fire  thoughtfully,  but  at 
length  said,  like  one  possessed  of  a  sudden  resolve,  "  There 
is  but  one  place  in  Bethlehem  where  there  are  mangers ; 
but  one,  and  that  is  in  the  cave  near  the  old  khan.  Breth 
ren,  let  us  go  see  this  thing  which  has  come  to  pass.  The 
priests  and  doctors  have  been  a  long  time  looking  for  the 
Christ.  Now  he  is  born,  and  the  Lord  has  given  us  a  sign 
by  which  to  know  him.  Let  us  go  up  and  worship  him." 

"  But  the  flocks  !" 

"  The  Lord  will  take  care  of  them.     Let  us  make  haste." 

Then  they  all  arose  and  left  the  mdrdh. 

****** 

Around  the  mountain  and  through  the  town  they  passed, 
and  came  to  the  gate  of  the  khan,  where  there  was  a  man 
on  watch. 

"  AVhat  would  you  have  ?"  he  asked. 

"  We  have  seen  and  heard  great  things  to-night,"  they 
replied. 

"  Well,  we,  too,  have  seen  great  things,  but  heard  noth 
ing.  What  did  you  hear  ?" 

"  Let  us  go  down  to  the  cave  in  the  enclosure,  that  we 


64  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

may  be  sure ;  then  \ve  will  tell  you  all.  Come  with  us, 
and  see  for  yourself." 

"  It  is  a  fool's  errand." 

"  No,  the  Christ  is  born." 

"  The  Christ !     How  do  you  know  ?" 

"  Let  us  go  and  see  first." 

The  man  laughed  scornfully. 

"  The  Christ  indeed  !     How  are  you  to  know  him  ?" 

"  lie  was  born  this  night,  and  is  now  lying  in  a  manger, 
so  we  were  told ;  and  there  is  but  one  place  in  Bethlehem 
with  mangers." 

"  The  cave  ?" 

"  Yes.     Come  with  us." 

They  went  through  the  court-yard  without  notice,  al 
though  there  were  some  up  even  then  talking  about  the 
wonderful  light.  The  door  of  the  cavern  was  open.  A 
lantern  was  burning  within,  and  they  entered  unceremoni 
ously. 

"  I  give  you  peace,"  the  watchman  said  to  Joseph  and 
the  Beth-Dagonite.  "  Here  are  people  looking  for  a  child 
born  this  night,  whom  they  are  to  know  by  finding  him  in 
swaddling-clothes  and  lying  in  a  manger." 

For  a  moment  the  face  of  the  stolid  Nazarene  was 
moved  ;  turning  away,  he  said,  "  The  child  is  here." 

They  were  led  to  one  of  the  mangers,  and  there  the 
child  was.  The  lantern  was  brought,  and  the  shepherds 
stood  by  mute.  The  little  one  made  no  sign ;  it  was  as 
others  just  born. 

"  Where  is  the  mother  ?"  asked  the  watchman. 

One  of  the  women  took  the  baby,  and  went  to  Mary, 
lying  near,  and  put  it  in  her  arms.  Then  the  bystanders 
collected  about  the  two. 

"  It  is  the  Christ !"  said  a  shepherd,  at  last. 

"  The  Christ !"  they  all  repeated,  falling  upon  their  knees 
in  worship.  One  of  them  repeated  several  times  over, 

"  It  is  the  Lord,  and  his  glory  is  above  the  earth  and 
heaven." 

And  the  simple  men,  never  doubting,  kissed  the  hem  of 
the  mother's  robe,  and  with  joyful  faces  departed.  In  the 
khan,  to  all  the  people  aroused  and  pressing  about  them, 


BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  65 

they  told  their  story ;  and  through  the  town,  and  all  the 
way  back  to  the  marah,  they  chanted  the  refrain  of  the 
angels,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace, 
good-will  towards  men  !" 

The  story  went  abroad,  confirmed  by  the  light  so  gener 
ally  seen ;  and  the  next  day,  and  for  days  thereafter,  the 
cave  was  visited  by  curious  crowds,  of  whom  some  be 
lieved,  though  the  greater  part  laughed  and  mocked. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  eleventh  day  after  the  birth  of  the  child  in  the  cave, 
about  mid-afternoon,  the  three  wise  men  approached  Jeru 
salem  by  the  road  from  Shechem.  After  crossing  Brook 
Cedron,  they  met  many  people,  of  whom  none  failed  to 
stop  and  look  after  them  curiously. 

Judea  was  of  necessity  an  international  thoroughfare ;  a 
narrow  ridge,  raised,  apparently,  by  the  pressure  of  the  des 
ert  on  the  east,  and  the  sea  on  the  west,  was  all  she  could 
claim  to  be ;  over  the  ridge,  however,  nature  had  stretched 
the  line  of  trade  between  the  east  and  the  south ;  and  that 
was  her  wealth.  In  other  words,  the  riches  of  Jerusalem 
were  the  tolls  she  levied  on  passing  commerce.  Nowhere 
else,  consequently,  unless  in  Rome,  was  there  such  constant 
assemblage  of  so  many  people  of  so  many  different  nations ; 
in  no  other  city  was  a  stranger  less  strange  to  the  residents 
than  within  her  walls  and  purlieus.  And  yet  these  three 
men  excited  the  wonder  of  all  whom  they  met  on  the  way 
to  the  gates. 

A  child  belonging  to  some  women  sitting  by  the  road 
side  opposite  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings  saw  the  party  com 
ing;  immediately  it  clapped  its  hands,  and  cried,  "Look, 
look  !  What  pretty  bells  !  What  big  camels  !" 

The  bells  were  silver;  the  camels,  as  we  have  seen,  were 
of  unusual  size  and  whiteness,  and  moved  with  singular 
statoliness ;  the  trappings  told  of  the  desert  and  of  long 
journeys  thereon,  and  also  of  ample  means  in  possession  of 
the  owners,  who  sat  under  the  little  canopies  exactly  as  they 
appeared  at  the  rendezvous  beyond  the  Jebel.  Yet  it  was 
5 


66  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

> 

not  the  bells  or  the  camels,  or  their  furniture,  or  the  de 
meanor  of  the  riders,  that  were  so  wonderful ;  it  was  the 
question  put  by  the  man  who  rode  foremost  of  the  three.' 

The  approach  to  Jerusalem  from  the  north  is  across  a 
plain  which  dips  southward,  leaving  the  Damascus  Gate  in 
a  vale  or  hollow.  The  road  is  narrow,  but  deeply  cut  by 
long  use,  and  in  places  difficult  on  account  of  the  cobbles 
left  loose  and  dry  by  the  washing  of  the  rains.  On  either 
side,  however,  there  stretched,  in  the  old  time,  rich  fields 
and  handsome  olive -groves,  which  must,  in  luxurious 
growth,  have  been  beautiful,  especially  to  travellers  fresh 
from  the  wastes  of  the  desert.  In  this  road  the  three 
stopped  before  the  party  in  front  of  the  Tombs. 

"  Good  people,"  said  Balthasar,  stroking  his  plaited  beard, 
and  bending  from  his  cot,  "  is  not  Jerusalem  close  by  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  woman  into  whose  arms  the  child 
had  shrunk.  "  If  the  trees  on  yon  swell  were  a  little  lower 
you  could  see  the  towers  on  the  market-place." 

Balthasar  gave  the  Greek  and  the  Hindoo  a  look,  then 
asked, 

"  Where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of  the  Jews  ?" 

The  women  gazed  at  each  other  without  reply. 

"  You  have  not  heard  of  him  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Well,  tell  everybody  that  we  have  seen  his  star  in  the 
east,  and  are  come  to  worship  him." 

Thereupon  the  friends  rode  on.  Of  others  they  asked 
the  same  question,  with  like  result.  A  large  company  whom 
they  met  going  to  the  Grotto  of  Jeremiah  were  so  aston 
ished  by  the  inquiry  and  the  appearance  of  the  travellers 
that  they  turned  about  and  followed  them  into  the  city. 

So  much  were  the  three  occupied  with  the  idea  of  their 
mission  that  they  did  not  care  for  the  view  which  presently 
rose  before  them  in  the  utmost  magnificence:  for  the  vil 
lage  first  to  receive  them  on  Bezetha;  for  Mizpah  and  Oli 
vet,  over  on  their  left;  for  the  wall  behind  the  village,  with 
its  forty  tall  and  solid  towers,  superadded  partly  for  strength, 
partly  to  gratify  the  critical  taste  of  the  kingly  builder;  for 
the  same  towered  wall  bending  off  to  the  right,  with  many 
an  angle,  and  here  and  there  an  embattled  gate,  up  to  the 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  67 

three  great  white  piles  Phasaelus,  Mariamne,  and  Hippicus* 
for  Zion,  tallest  of  the  hills,  crowned  with  marble  palaces, 
and  never  so  beautiful ;  for  the  glittering  terraces  of  the 
temple  on  Moriah,  admittedly  one  of  the  wonders  of  the 
earth;  for  the  regal  mountains  rimming  the  sacred  city 
round  about  until  it  seemed  in  the  hollow  of  a  mighty  bowl. 

They  came,  at  length,  to  a  tower  of  great  height  and 
strength,  overlooking  the  gate  which,  at  that  time,  answered 
to  the  present  Damascus  Gate,  and  marked  the  meeting- 
place  of  the  three  roads  from  Shcchem,  Jericho,  and  Gibeon. 
A  Roman  guard  kept  the  passage-way.  By  this  time  the 
people  following  the  camels  formed  a  train  sufficient  to  draw 
the  idlers  hanging  about  the  portal ;  so  that  when  Balthasar 
stopped  to  speak  to  the  sentinel,  the  three  became  instantly 
the  centre  of  a  close  circle  eager  to  hear  all  that  passed. 

"  I  give  you  peace,"  the  Egyptian  said,  in  a  clear  voice. 

The  sentinel  made  no  reply. 

"  We  have  come  great  distances  in  search  of  one  who  is 
born  King  of  the  Jews.  Can  you  tell  us  where  he  is  ?" 

The  soldier  raised  the  visor  of  his  helmet,  and  called 
loudly.  From  an  apartment  at  the  right  of  the  passage  an 
officer  appeared. 

"  Give  way,"  he  cried,  to  the  crowd  which  now  pressed 
closer  in;  and  as  they  seemed  slow  to  obey,  he  advanced 
twirling  his  javelin  vigorously,  now  right,  now  left ;  and  so 
he  gained  room. 

"  What  would  you  ?"  he  asked  of  Balthasar,  speaking  in 
the  idiom  of  the  city. 

And  Balthasar  answered  in  the  same, 

"  Where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of  the  Jews  ?" 

"  Herod  ?"  asked  the  officer,  confounded. 

"  Herod's  kingship  is  from  Caesar ;  not  Herod." 

"  There  is  no  other  King  of  the  Jews." 

"  But  we  have  seen  the  star  of  him  we  seek,  and  come 
to  worship  him." 

The  Roman  was  perplexed. 

"  Go  farther,"  he  said,  at  last.  "  Go  farther.  I  am  not 
a  Jew.  Carry  the  question  to  the  doctors  in  .the  Temple, 
or  to  llunuas  the  priest,  or,  better  still,  to  Herod  himself. 
If  there  be  another  King  of  the  Jews,  he  will  find  him." 


68  BEK-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHKIST. 

Thereupon  he  made  way  for  the  strangers,  and  they 
passed  the  gate.  But,  before  entering  the  narrow  street, 
Balthasar  lingered  to  say  to  his  friends,  u  We  are  sufficiently 
proclaimed.  By  midnight  the  whole  city  will  have  heard 
of  us  and  of  our  mission.  Let  us  to  the  khan  now." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THAT  evening,  before  sunset,  some  women  were  washing 
clothes  on  the  upper  step  of  the  flight  that  led  down  into  the 
basin  of  the  Pool  of  Siloam.  They  knelt  each  before  a 
broad  bowl  of  earthenware.  A  girl  at  the  foot  of  the  steps 
kept  them  supplied  with  water,  and  sang  while  she  filled 
the  jar.  The  song  was  cheerful,  and  no  doubt  lightened 
their  labor.  Occasionally  they  would  sit  upon  their  heels, 
and  look  up  the  slope  of  Ophel,  and  round  to  the  summit 
of  what  is  now  the  Mount  of  Offence,  then  faintly  glorified 
by  the  dying  sun. 

While  they  plied  their  hands,  rubbing  and  wringing  the 
clothes  in  the  bowls,  two  other  women  came  to  them,  each 
with  an  empty  jar  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Peace  to  you,"  one  of  the  new-comers  said. 

The  laborers  paused,  sat  up,  wrung  the  water  from  their 
hands,  and  returned  the  salutation. 

'  It  is  nearly  night — time  to  quit." 

'  There  is  no  end  to  work,"  was  the  reply. 

'  But  there  is  a  time  to  rest,  and — " 

'  To  hear  what  may  be  passing,"  interposed  another. 

'  What  news  have  you  ?" 

'  Then  you  have  not  heard  3" 

<  No." 

'  They  say  the  Christ  is  born,"  said  the  newsmonger, 
plunging  into  her  story. 

It  was  curious  to  see  the  faces  of  the  laborers  brighten 
with  interest ;  on  the  other  side  down  came  the  jars,  which, 
in  a  moment,  were  turned  into  seats  for  their  owners. 

"  The  Christ !"  the  listeners  cried. 

"  So  they  say." 


BEX-IIUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST.  GO 

"  Who  ?" 

"  Everybody;  it  is  common  talk." 

"Docs  anybody  believe  it?" 

"  This  afternoon  three  men  came  across  Brook  Cedron 
on  the  road  from  Shechem,"  the  speaker  replied,  circum 
stantially,  intending  to  smother  doubt.  "Each  one  of  them 
rode  a  camel  spotless  white,  and  larger  than  any  ever  be 
fore  seen  in  Jerusalem." 

The  eyes  and  mouths  of  the  auditors  opened  wide. 

"  To  prove  how  great  and  rich  the  men  were,"  the  nar 
rator  continued,  "  they  sat  under  awnings  of  silk ;  the 
buckles  of  their  saddles  were  of  gold,  as  was  the  fringe  of 
their  bridles  ;  the  bells  were  of  silver,  and  made  real  music. 
Nobody  knew  them ;  they  looked  as  if  they  had  come  from 
the  ends  of  the  world.  Only  one  of  them  spoke,  and  of 
everybody  on  the  road,  even  the  women  and  children,  he 
asked -this  question — '  Where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of 
the  Jews?'  No  one  gave  them  answer — no  one  understood 
what  they  meant ;  so  they  passed  on,  leaving  behind  them 
this  saying:  '  For  we  have  seen  his  star  in  the  east,  and  are 
come  to  worship  him.'  They  put  the  question  to  the  Ro 
man  at  the  gate ;  and  he,  no  wiser  than  the  simple  people 
on  the  road,  sent  them  up  to  Herod." 

"  Where  are  they  now  ?" 

"  At  the  khan.  Hundreds  have  been  to  look  at  them 
already,  and  hundreds  more  are  going." 

"  Who  are  they  ?" 

"  Nobody  knows.  They  are  said  to  be  Persians — wise 
men  who  talk  with  the  stars — prophets,  it  may  be,  like 
Elijah  and  Jeremiah." 

"  What  do  they  mean  by  King  of  the  Jews  ?" 

"  The  Christ,  and  that  he  is  just  born." 

One  of  the  women  laughed,  and  resumed  her  work,  say 
ing,  "  Well,  when  I  see  him  I  will  believe." 

Another  followed  her  example  :  "  And  I — well,  when  I 
see  him  raise  the  dead,  I  will  believe." 

A  third  said  quietly,  "  He  has  been  a  long  time  prom 
ised.  It  will  be  enough  for  me  to  see  him  heal  one  leper." 

And  the  party  sat  talking  until  the  night  came,  and,  with 
the  help  of  the  frosty  air,  drove  them  home. 


70  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

Later  in  the  evening,  about  the  beginning  of  the  first 
watch,  there  was  an  assemblage  in  the  palace  on  Mount 
Zion,  of  probably  fifty  persons,  who  never  came  together 
except  by  order  of  Herod,  and  then  only  when  he  had  de 
manded  to  know  some  one  or  more  of  the  deeper  mysteries 
of  the  Jewish  law  and  history.  It  was,  iix^short,  a  meeting 
of  the  teachers  of  the  colleges,  of  the  chief  priests,  and  of 
the  doctors  most  nots,d  in  the  city  for  learning — the  lead 
ers  of  opinion,  expounders  of  the  different  creeds ;  princes 
of  the  Sadducees ;  Pharisaic  debaters ;  calm,  soft-spoken, 
stoical  philosophers  of  the  Essene  socialists. 

The  chamber  in  which  the  session  was  held  belonged  to 
one  of  the  interior  court-yards  of  the  palace,  and  was  quite 
large  and  Romanesque.  The  floor  was  tessellated  with 
marble  blocks ;  the  walls,  unbroken  by  a  window,  were 
frescoed  in  panels  of  saffron  yellow  ;  a  divan  occupied  the 
centre  of  the  apartment,  covered  with  cushions  of  bright- 
yellow  cloth,  and  fashioned  in  form  of  the  letter  U,  the 
opening  towards  the  doorway;  in  the  arch  of  the  divan, 
or,  as  it  were,  in  the  bend  of  the  letter,  there  was  an  im 
mense  bronze  tripod,  curiously  inlaid  with  gold  and  silver, 
over  which  a  chandelier  dropped  from  the  ceiling,  having 
seven  arms,  each  holding  a  lighted  lamp.  The  divan  and 
the  lamp  were  purely  Jewish. 

The  company  sat  upon  the  divan  after  the  style  of  Ori 
entals,  in  costume  singularly  uniform,  except  as  to  color. 
They  were  mostly  men  advanced  in  years  ;  immense  beards 
covered  their  faces ;  to  their  large  noses  were  added  the 
effects  of  large  black  eyes,  deeply  shaded  by  bold  brows ; 
their  demeanor  was  grave,  dignified,  even  patriarchal.  In 
brief,  their  session  was  that  of  the  Sanhedrim. 

He  who  sat  before  the  tripod,  however,  in  the  place  which 
may  be  called  the  head  of  the  divan,  having  all  the  rest  of  • 
his  associates  on  his  right  and  left,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
before  him,  evidently  president  of  the  meeting,  would  have 
instantly  absorbed  the  attention  of  a  spectator.  He  had 
been  cast  in  large  mould,  but  was  now  shrunken  and  stooped 
to  ghastliness  ;  his  white  robe  dropped  from  his  shoul 
ders  in  folds  that  gave  no  hint  of  muscle  or  anything  but 
an  angular  skeleton.  His  hands,  half -concealed  by  sleeves' 


BEN-IIUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  71 

of  silk,  white  and  crimson  striped,  were  clasped  upon  his 
knees.  "When  he  spoke,  sometimes  the  first  finger  of  the 
right  hand  extended  tremulously ;  he  seemed  incapable  of 
other  gesture.  But  his  head  was  a  splendid  dome.  A  few 
hairs,  whiter  than  fine-drawn  silver,  fringed  the  base  ;  over 
a  broad,  full-sphered  skull  the  skin  was  drawn  close,  and 
shone  in  the  light  with  positive  brilliance ;  the  temples 
were  deep  hollows,  from  which  the  forehead  beetled  like 
a  wrinkled  crag ;  the  eyes  were  wan  and  dim ;  the  nose 
was  pinched  ;  and  all  the  lower  face  was  muffled  in  a  beard 
flowing  and  venerable  as  Aaron's.  Such  was  Hillel  the 
Babylonian  !  The  line  of  prophets,  long  extinct  in  Israel, 
was  now  succeeded  by  a  line  of  scholars,  of  whom  he  was 
first  in  learning — a  prophet  in  all  but  the  divine  inspira 
tion  !  At  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  six,  he  was  still 
Rector  of  the  Great  College. 

On  the  table  before  him  lay  outspread  a  roll  or  volume 
of  parchment  inscribed  with  Hebrew  characters ;  behind 
him,  in  waiting,  stood  a  page  richly  habited. 

There  had  been  discussion,  but  at  this  moment  of  intro 
duction  the  company  had  reached  a  conclusion  ;  each  one 
was  in  an  attitude  of  rest,  and  the  venerable  Hillel,  without 
moving,  called  the  page. 

"  Hist !" 

The  youth  advanced  respectfully. 

"  Go  tell  the  king  we  are  ready  to  give  him  answer." 

The  boy  hurried  away. 

After  a  time  two  officers  entered  and  stopped,  one  on 
each  side  the  door ;  after  them  slowly  followed  a  most  strik 
ing  personage — an  old  man  clad  in  a  purple  robe  bordered 
Avith  scarlet,  and  girt  to  his  waist  by  a  band  of  gold  linked 
so  fine  that  it  was  pliable  as  leather ;  the  latchets  of  his 
shoes  sparkled  with  precious  stones ;  a  narrow  crown 
wrought  in  filigree  shone  outside  a  tarbooshe  of  softest 
crimson  plush,  which,  encasing  his  head,  fell  down  the  neck 
and  shoulders,  leaving  the  throat  and  neck  exposed.  Instead 
of  a  seal,  a  dagger  dangled  from  his  belt.  He  walked  with 
a  halting  step,  leaning  heavily  upon  a  staff.  Not  until  he 
reached  the  opening  of  the  divan  did  he  pause  or  look  up 
from  the  floor ;  then,  as  for  the  first  time  conscious  of  the 


72  BEX-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

company,  and  roused  by  their  presence,  lie  raised  himself, 
and  looked  haughtily  round,  like  one  startled  and  searching 
for  an  enemy — so  dark,  suspicious,  and  threatening  was  the 
glance.  Such  was  Herod  the  Great  —  a  body  broken  by 
diseases,  a  conscience  seared  with  crimes,  a  mind  magnifi 
cently  capable,  a  soul  fit  for  brotherhood  with  the  Caesars  ; 
now  seven-and-sixty  years  old,  but  guarding  his  throne 
with  a  jealousy  never  so  vigilant,  a  power  never  so  despotic, 
and  a  cruelty  never  so  inexorable. 

There  was  a  general  movement  on  the  part  of  the  assem 
blage  —  a  bending  forward  in  salaam  by  the  more  aged,  a 
rising-up  by  the  more  courtierly,  followed  by  low  genuflec 
tions,  hands  upon  the  beard  or  breast. 

His  observations  taken,  Herod  moved  on  until  at  the 
tripod  opposite  the  venerable  Hillel,  who  met  his  cold 
glance  with  an  inclination  of  the  head,  and  a  slight  lifting 
of  the  hands. 

"  The  answer  !"  said  the  king,  with  imperious  simplicity, 
addressing  Hillel,  and  planting  his  staff  before  him  with 
both  hands.  "  The  answer  !" 

The  eyes  of  the  patriarch  glowed  mildly,  and,  raising  his 
head,  and  looking  the  inquisitor  full  in  the  face,  he  an 
swered,  his  associates  giving  him  closest  attention, 

"  With  thee,  O  king,  be  the  peace  of  God,  of  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob !" 

His  manner  was  that  of  invocation  ;  changing  it,  he  re 
sumed  : 

"  Thou  hast  demanded  of  us  where  the  Christ  should  be 
born." 

The  king  bowed,  though  the  evil  eyes  remained  fixed 
upon  the  sage's  face. 

"  That  is  the  question." 

"  Then,  0  king,  speaking  for  m57self,  and  all  my  brethren 
here,  not  one  dissenting,  I  say,  in  Bethlehem  of  Judea." 

Ilillel  glanced  at  the  parchment  on  the  tripod  ;  and,  point 
ing  with  his  tremulous  finger,  continued,  "  In  Bethlehem  of 
Judea,  for  thus  it  is  written  by  the  prophet,  '  And  thou, 
Bethlehem,  in  the  land  of  Judea,  art  not  the  least  among 
the  princes  of  Judah ;  for.  out  of  thee  shall  come  a  gov 
ernor  that  shall  rule  my  people  Israel.' " 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  73 

Herod's  face  was  troubled,  and  his  eyes  fell  upon  tlia 
parchment  while  he  thought.  Those  beholding  him  scarce 
ly  breathed ;  they  spoke  not,  nor  did  he.  At  length  he 
turned  about  and  left  the  chamber. 

"  Brethren,"  said  Hillcl,  "  we  are  dismissed." 

The  company  then  arose,  and  in  groups  departed. 

"  Simeon,"  said  Ilillel  again. 

A  man,  quite  fifty  years  old,  but  in  the  hearty  prime  of 
life,  answered  and  came  to  him. 

"  Take  up  the  sacred  parchment,  my  son ;  roll  it  ten 
derly." 

The  order  was  obeyed. 

"  Now  lend  me  thy  arm ;  I  will  to  the  litter." 

The  strong  man  stooped ;  with  his  withered  hands  the 
old  man  took  the  offered  support,  and,  rising,  moved  feebly 
to  the  door. 

So  departed  the  famous  Rector,  and  Simeon,  his  son, 

who  was  to  be  his  successor  in  wisdom,  learning,  and  office. 
****** 

Yet  later  in  the  evening  the  wise  men  were  lying  in  a 
lewen  of  the  khan  awake.  The  stones  which  served  them 
as  pillows  raised  their  heads  so  they  could  look  out  of  the 
open  arch  into  the  depths  of  the  sky  ;  and  as  they  watched 
the  twinkling  of  the  stars,  they  thought  of  the  next  mani 
festation.  How  would  it  come  ?  What  would  it  be  ?  They 
were  in  Jerusalem  at  last ;  they  had  asked  at  the  gate 
for  Him  they  sought ;  they  had  borne  witness  of  his  birth  ; 
it  remained  only  to  find  him ;  and  as  to  that,  they  placed 
all  trust  in  the  Spirit.  Men  listening  for  the  voice  of  God, 
or  waiting  a  sign  from  Heaven,  cannot  sleep. 

While  they  were  in  this  condition,  a  man  stepped  in  un 
der  the  arch,  darkening  the  lewen. 

"  Awake  !"  he  said  to  them ;  "  I  bring  you  a  message 
which  will  not  be  put  off." 

They  all  sat  up. 

"  From  whom  ?"  asked  the  Egyptian. 

"  Herod  the  king." 

Each  one  felt  his  spirit  thrill. 

"  Are  you  not  the  steward  of  the  khan  ?"  Balthasar  asked 
next. 


74  BEN-HUR:  A   TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  I  am." 

"  Wliat  would  the  king  with  us  ?" 

"  His  messenger  is  without ;  let  him  answer." 

"  Tell  him,  then,  to  abide  our  coming." 

"  You  were  right,  0  my  brother  !"  said  the  Greek,  when 
the  steward  was  gone.  "  The  question  put  to  the  people 
on  the  road,  and  to  the  guard  at  the  gate,  has  given  us' 
quick  notoriety.  I  am  impatient ;  let  us  up  quickly." 

They  arose,  put  on  their  sandals,  girt  their  mantles  about 
them,  and  went  out. 

"  I  salute  you,  and  give  you  peace,  and  pray  your  par 
don  ;  but  my  master,  the  king,  has  sent  me  to  invite  you 
to  the  palace,  where  he  would  have  speech  with  you  pri 
vately." 

Thus  the  messenger  discharged  his  duty. 

A  lamp  hung  in  the  entrance,  and  by  its  light  they 
looked  at  each  other,  and  knew  the  Spirit  was  upon  them. 
Then  the  Egyptian  stepped  to  the  steward,  and  said,  so  as 
not  to  be  heard  by  the  others,  "  You  know  where  our  goods 
are  stored  in  the  court,  and  where  our  camels  are  resting. 
While  we  are  gone,  make  all  things  ready  for  our  depart 
ure,  if  it  should  be  needful." 

"  Go  your  way  assured  ;  trust  me,"  the  steward  replied. 

"  The  king's  will  is  our  will,"  said  Balthasar  to  the  mes 
senger.  "  We  will  follow  you." 

The  streets  of  the  Holy  City  were  narrow  then  as  now, 
but  not  so  rough  and  foul ;  for  the  great  builder,  not 
content  with  beauty,  enforced  cleanliness  and  convenience 
also.  Following  their  guide,  the  brethren  proceeded  with 
out  a  word.  Through  the  dim  starlight,  made  dimmer 
by  the  walls  on  both  sides,  sometimes  almost  lost  under 
bridges  connecting  the  house-tops,  out  of  a  low  ground 
they  ascended  a  hill.  At  last  they  came  to  a  portal  reared 
across  the  way.  In  the  light  of  fires  blazing  before  it  in 
two  great  braziers,  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  structure, 
and  also  of  some  guards  leaning  motionlcssly  upon  their 
arms.  They  passed  into  a  building  unchallenged.  Then 
by  passages  and  arched  halls ;  through  courts,  and  under 
colonnades  not  always  lighted ;  up  long  flights  of  stairs, 
past  innumerable  cloisters  and  chambers,  they  were  con^ 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  75 

ducted  into  a  tower  of  great  height.  Suddenly  the  guide 
halted,  and,  pointing  through  an  open  door,  said  to  them, 

"  Enter.     The  king  is  there." 

The  air  of  the  chamber  was  heavy  with  the  perfume  of 
sandal-wood,  and  all  the  appointments  within  were  effemi 
nately  rich.  Upon  the  floor,  covering  the  central  space,  a 
tufted  rug  was  spread,  and  upon  that  a  throne  was  set. 
The  visitors  had  but  time,  however,  to  catch  a  confused 
idea  of  the  place — of  carved  and  gilt  ottomans  and  couches  ; 
of  fans  and  jars  and  musical  instruments  ;  of  golden  candle 
sticks  glittering  in  their  own  lights  ;  of  walls  painted  in  the 
style  of  the  voluptuous  Grecian  school,  one  look  at  which 
had  made  a  Pharisee  hide  his  head  with  holy  horror. 
Herod,  sitting  upon  the  throne  to  receive  them,  clad  as 
when  at  the  conference  with  the  doctors  and  lawyers, 
claimed  all  their  minds. 

At  the  edge  of  the  rug,  to  which  they  advanced  unin 
vited,  they  prostrated  themselves.  The  king  touched  a 
bell.  An  attendant  came  in,  and  placed  three  stools  be 
fore  the  throne. 

"  Seat  yourselves,"  said  the  monarch,  graciously. 

"  From  the  North  Gate,"  he  continued,  when  they  were 
at  rest,  "  I  had  this  afternoon  report  of  the  arrival  of  three 
strangers,  curiously  mounted,  and  appearing  as  if  from  far 
countries.  Are  you  the  men  ?" 

The  Egyptian  took  the  sign  from  the  Greek  and  the 
Hindoo,  and  answered,  with  the  profoundest  salaam, 
"  Were  we  other  than  we  are,  the  mighty  Herod,  whose 
fame  is  as  incense  to  the  Avhole  world,  would  not  have  sent 
for  us.  We  may  not  doubt  that  we  are  the  strangers." 

Herod  acknowledged  the  speech  with  a  wave  of  the 
hand. 

"Who  are  you?  Whence  do  you  come?"  he  asked, 
adding  significantly,  "  Let  each  speak  for  himself." 

In  turn  they  gave  him  account,  referring  simply  to  the 
cities  and  lands  of  their  birth,  and  the  routes  by  which 
they  came  to  Jerusalem.  Somewhat  disappointed,  Herod 
plied  them  more  directly. 

"  What  was  the  question  you  put  to  the  officer  at  the 
gate  ?" 


70  BEN-HUR:A   TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST. 

"  We  asked  him,  Where  is  lie  that  is  born  King  of  the 
Jews." 

"  I  see  now  why  the  people  were  so  curious.  You  ex 
cite  me  no  less.  Is  there  another  King  of  the  Jews  ?" 

The  Egyptian  did  not  blanch. 

"  There  is  one  newly  born." 

An  expression  of  pain  knit  the  dark  face  of  the  monarch, 
as  if  his  mind  were  swept  by  a  harrowing  recollection. 

"  Not  to  me,  not  to  me  !"  he  exclaimed. 

Possibly  the  accusing  images  of  his  murdered  children 
flitted  before  him ;  recovering  from  the  emotion,  whatever 
it  was,  he  asked,  steadily,  "  Where  is  the  new  king  ?" 

"  That,  O  king,  is  what  we  would  ask." 

"  You  bring  me  a  wonder  —  a  riddle  surpassing  any  of 
Solomon's,"  the  inquisitor  said  next.  "  As  you  see,  I  am 
in  the  time  of  life  when  curiosity  is  as  ungovernable  as  it 
was  in  childhood,  when  to  trifle  with  it  is  cruelty.  Tell 
me  further,  and  I  will  honor  you  as  kings  honor  each  oth 
er.  Give  me  all  you  know  about  the  newly-born,  and  I  will 
join  you  in  the  search  for  him ;  and  when  we  have  found 
him,  I  will  do  what  you  wish  ;  I  will  bring  him  to  Jerusa 
lem,  and  train  him  in  kingcraft ;  I  will  use  my  grace  with 
Caesar  for  his  promotion  and  glory.  Jealousy  shall  not 
come  between  us,  so  I  swear.  But  tell  me  first  how,  so 
widely  separated  by  seas  and  deserts,  you  all  came  to  hear 
of  him." 

"  I  will  tell  you  truly,  0  king." 

"  Speak  on,"  said  Herod. 

Balthasar  raised  himself  erect,  and  said,  solemnly. 

"  There  is  an  Almighty  God." 

Herod  was  visibly  startled. 

"  He  bade  us  come  hither,  promising  that  we  should 
find  the  Redeemer  of  the  World;  that  we  should  see  and 
worship  him,  and  bear  witness  that  he  was  come ;  and,  as 
a  sign,  we  were  each  given  to  see  a  star.  His  Spirit 
stayed  with  us.  O  king,  his  Spirit  is  Avith  us  now !" 

An  overpowering  feeling  seized  the  three.  The  Greek 
with  difficulty  restrained  an  outcry.  Herod's  gaze  darted 
quickly  from  one  to  the  other;  he  was  more  suspicious 
and  dissatisfied  than  before. 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  77 

"  You  are  mocking  me,"  lie  said.  "  If  not,  tell  me  more. 
What  is  to  follow  the  coming  of  the  new  king?" 

"  The  salvation  of  men." 

"  From  what  ?" 

"  Their  wickedness." 

"  How  I" 

"By  the  divine  agencies  —  Faith,  Love,  and  Good 
Works." 

"  Then " — Herod  paused,  and  from  his  look  no  man 
could  have  said  with  what  feeling  he  continued — "  you  are 
the  heralds  of  the  Christ.  Is  tliat  all  ?" 

Balthasar  bowed  low. 

"  We  are  your  servants,  0  king." 

The  monarch  touched  a  bell,  and  the  attendant  appeared. 

"  Bring  the  gifts,"  the  master  said. 

The  attendant  went  out,  but  in  a  little  while  returned, 
and,  kneeling  before  the  guests,  gave  to  each  one  an  outer 
robe  or  mantle  of  scarlet  and  blue,  and  a  girdle  of  gold. 
They  acknowledged  the  honors  with  Eastern  prostrations. 

"  A  word  further,"  said  Herod,  when  the  ceremony  was 
ended.  "  To  the  officer  of  the  gate,  and  but  now  to  me, 
you  spoke  of  seeing  a  star  in  the  east." 

"  Yes,"  said  Balthazar,  "  his  star,  the  star  of  the  newlj 
born." 

"  What  time  did  it  appear  ?" 

"  When  we  were  bidden  come  hither." 

Herod  arose,  signifying  the  audience  was  over.  Steppin,'« 
from  the  throne  towards  them,  he  said,  with  all  gracious- 
ness, 

"  If,  as  I  believe,  O  illustrious  men,  you  are  indeed  the 
heralds  of  the  Christ  just  born,  know  that  I  have  this  night 
consulted  those  wisest  in  things  Jewish,  and  they  say  with 
one  voice  he  should  be  born  in  Bethlehem  of  Judea.  I  say 
to  you,  go  thither ;  go  and  search  diligently  for  the,  young 
child  ;  and  when  you  have  found  him  bring  me  word  again, 
that  I  may  come  and  worship  him.  To  your  going  there 
shall  be  no  let  or  hindrance.  Peace  be  with  you  !" 

And,  folding  his  robe  about  him,  he  left  the  chamber. 

Directly  the  guide  came,  and  led  them  back  to  the  street, 
and  thence  to  the  khan,  at  the  portal  of  which  the  Greek 


78  BEN-I1UR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

said,  impulsively,  "  Let  us  to  Bethlehem,  O  brethren,  as 
the  king  has  advised." 

"  Yes,"  cried  the  Hindoo.  "  The  Spirit  burns  within 
me." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Balthasar,  with  equal  warmth.  "  The 
camels  are  ready." 

They  gave  gifts  to  the  steward,  mounted  into  their  sad 
dles,  received  directions  to  the  Joppa  Gate,  and  departed. 
At  their  approach  the  great  valves  were  unbarred,  and  they 
passed  out  into  the  open  country,  taking  the  road  so  lately 
travelled  by  Joseph  and  Mary.  As  they  came  up  out  of 
Hinnom,  on  the  plain  of  Rcphaim,  a  light  appeared,  at  first 
wide-spread  and  faint.  Their  pulses  fluttered  fast.  The 
light  intensified  rapidly  ;  they  closed  their  eyes  against  its 
burning  brilliance :  when  they  dared  look  again,  lo !  the 
star,  perfect  as  any  in  the  heavens,  but  low  down  and  mov 
ing  slowly  before  them.  And  they  folded  their  hands,  and 
shouted,  and  rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy. 

"  God  is  with  us  !  God  is  with  us  !"  they  repeated,  in 
frequent  cheer,  all  the  way,  until  the  star,  rising  out  of  the 
valley  beyond  Mar  Elias,  stood  still  over  a  house  up  on  the 
slope  of  the  hill  near  the  town. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

IT  was  now  the  beginning  of  the  third  watch,  and  at 
Bethlehem  the  morning  was  breaking  over  the  mountains 
in  the  east,  but  so  feebly  that  it  was  yet  night  in  the  valley. 
The  Avatchman  on  the  roof  of  the  old  khan,  shivering  in  the 
chilly  air,  was  listening  for  the  first  distinguishable  sounds 
with  which  life,  awakening,  greets  the  dawn,  when  a  light 
came  moving  up  the  hill  towards  the  house.  He  thought 
it  a  torch  in  some  one's  hand ;  next  moment  he  thought 
it  a  meteor ;  the  brilliance  grew,  however,  until  it  became 
a  star.  Sore  afraid,  he  cried  out,  and  brought  everybody 
within  the  walls  to  the  roof.  The  phenomenon,  in  eccentric 
motion,  continued  to  approach  ;  the  rocks,  trees,  and  road 
way  under  it  shone  as  in  a  glare  of  lightning ;  directly  its 
brightness  became  blinding.  The  more  timid  of  the  behold- 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  79 

ers  fell  upon  their  knees,  and  prayed,  with  their  faces  hid 
den  ;  the  boldest,  covering  their  eyes,  crouched,  and  now 
and  then  snatched  glances  fearfully.  Afterwhile  the  khan 
and  everything  thereabout  lay  under  the  intolerable  ra 
diance.  Such  as  dared  look  beheld  the  star  standing  still 
directly  over  the  house  in  front  of  the  cave  where  the  Child 
had  been  born. 

In  the  height  of  this  scene,  the  wise  men  came  up,  and 
at  the  gate  dismounted  from  their  camels,  and  shouted  for 
admission.  When  the  steward  so  far  mastered  his  terror 
as  to  give  them  heed,  he  drew  the  bars  and  opened  to  them. 
The  camels  looked  spectral  in  the  unnatural  light,  and,  be 
sides  their  outlandishness,  there  were  in  the  faces  and  man 
ner  of  the  three  visitors  an  eagerness  and  exaltation  which 
still  further  excited  the  keeper's  fears  and  fancy ;  he  fell 
back,  and  for  a  time  could  not  answer  the  question  they 
put  to  him. 

"  Is  not  this  Bethlehem  of  Judea  ?" 

But  others  came,  and  by  their  presence  gave  him  assur 
ance. 

"  No,  this  is  but  the  khan ;  the  town  lies  farther  on." 

"  Is  there  not  here  a  child  newly  born  ?" 

The  bystanders  turned  to  each  other  marvelling,  though 
some  of  them  answered,  "  Yes,  yes." 

"  Show  us  to  him  !"  said  the  Greek,  impatiently. 

"  Show  us  to  him !"  cried  Balthasar,  breaking  through 
his  gravity  ;  "  for  we  have  seen  his  star,  even  that  which 
ye  behold  over  the  house,  and  are  come  to  worship  him." 

The  Hindoo  clasped  his  hands,  exclaiming,  "  God  indeed 
lives !  Make  haste,  make  haste !  The  Saviour  is  found. 
Blessed,  blessed  are  we  above  men  !" 

The  people  from  the  roof  came  down  and  followed  the 
strangers  as  they  were  taken  through  the  court  and  out 
into  the  enclosure  ;  at  sight  of  the  star  yet  above  the  cave, 
though-  less  candescent  than  before,  some  turned  back 
afraid  ;  the  greater  part  went  on.  As  the  strangers  neared 
the  house,  the  orb  arose ;  when  they  were  at  the  door,  it 
was  high  up  overhead  vanishing ;  when  they  entered,  it 
went  out  lost  to  sight.  And  to  the  witnesses  of  what  then 
took  place  came  a  conviction  that  there  was  a  divine  rcla- 


80  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

tion  between  the  star  and  the  strangers,  which  extended 
also  to  at  least  some  of  the  occupants  of  the  cave.  When 
the  door  was  opened,  they  crowded  in. 

The  apartment  was  lighted  by  a  lantern  enough  to  enable 
the  strangers  to  find  the  mother,  and  the  child  awake  in 
her  lap. 

"  Is  the  child  thine  ?"  asked  Balthasar  of  Mary. 

And  she  who  had  kept  all  the  things  in  the  least  affect 
ing  the  little  one,  and  pondered  them  in  her  heart,  held  it 
up  in  the  light,  saying, 

"  He  is  my  son  !" 

And  they  fell  down  and  worshipped  him. 

They  saw  the  child  was  as  other  children  :  about  its  head 
was  neither  nimbus  nor  material  crown  ;  its  lips  opened 
not  in  speech ;  if  it  heard  their  expressions  of  joy,  their 
invocations,  their  prayers,  it  made  no  sign  whatever,  but, 
baby-like,  looked  longer  at  the  flame  in  the  lantern  than 
at  them. 

In  a  little  while  they  arose,  and,  returning  to  the  camels, 
brought  gifts  of  gold,  frankincense,  and  myrrh,  and  laid 
them  before  the  child,  abating  nothing  of  their  worshipful 
speeches  ;  of  which  no  part  is  given,  for  the  thoughtful 
know  that  the  pure  worship  of  the  pure  heart  was  then 
what  it  is  now,  and  has  always  been,  an  inspired  song. 

And  this  was  the  Saviour  they  had  come  so  far  to  find  ! 

Yet  they  worshipped  without  a  doubt. 

Why  ? 

Their  faith  rested  upon  the  signs  sent  them  by  him  whom 
we  have  since  come  to  know  as  the  Father ;  and  they  were 
of  the  kind  to  whom  his  promises  were  so  all-sufficient  tbat 
they  asked  nothing  about  his  ways.  Few  there  were  who 
had  seen  the  signs  and  heard  the  promises — the  Mother  and 
Joseph,  the  shepherds,  and  the  Three — yet  they  all  believed 
alike  ;  that  is  to  say,  in  this  period  of  the  plan  of  salvation, 
God  was  all  and  the  Child  nothing.  But  look  forward,  O 
reader  !  A  time  will  come  when  the  signs  will  all  proceed 
from  the  Son.  Happy  they  who  then  believe  in  him  ! 

Let  us  wait  that  period. 


BOOK  SECOND. 


"  There  is  a  fire 

And  motion  of  the  soul  which  will  not  dwell 
In  its  own  narrow  being,  but  aspire 
Beyond  the  fitting  medium  of  desire ; 
And,  but  once  kindled,  quenchless  evermore, 
Preys  upon  high  adventure,  nor  can  tire 
Of  aught  but  rest." 

Cldlde  Haro7d. 


CHAPTER   I. 

IT  is  necessary  now  to  carry  the  reader  forward  twenty- 
one  years,  to  the  beginning  of  the  administration  of  Vale 
rius  Gratus,  the  fourth  imperial  governor  of  Judea- — a  period 
which  will  be  remembered  as  rent  by  political  agitations  in 
Jerusalem,  if,  indeed,  it  be  not  the  precise  time  of  the  open 
ing  of  the  final  quarrel  between  the  Jew  and  the  Ilomau. 

In  the  interval  Judea  had  been  subjected  to  changes  af 
fecting  her  in  many  ways,  but  in  nothing  so  much  as  her 
political  status.  Herod  tlie  Great  died  within  one  year 
after  the  birth  of  the  Child — died  so  miserably  that  the 
Christian  world  had  reason  to  believe  him  overtaken  by  the 
Divine  wrath.  Like  all  great  rulers  who  spend  their  lives 
in  perfecting  the  power  they  create,  he  dreamed  of  trans 
mitting  his  throne  and  crown — of  being  the  founder  of  a 
dynasty.  With  that  intent,  he  left  a  will  dividing  his  ter 
ritories  between  his  three  sons,  Antipas,  Philip,  and  Arche- 
laus,  of  whom  the  last  was  appointed  to  succeed  to  the  title. 
The  testament  was  necessarily  referred  to  Augustus,  the  em 
peror,  who  ratified  all  its  provisions  with  one  exception  :  he 
withheld  from  Archelaus  the  title  of  king  until  he  proved 
0 


82  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

his  capacity  and  loyalty  ;  in  lieu  thereof,  he  created  him 
ctlmarch,  and  as  such  permitted  him  to  govern  nine  years, 
when,  for  misconduct  and  inability  to  stay  the  turbulent 
elements  that  grew  and  strengthened  around  him,  he  was 
sent  into  Gaul  as  an  exile. 

Caesar  was  not  content  with  deposing  Archelaus  ;  he 
struck  the  people  of  Jerusalem  in  a  manner  that  touched 
their  pride,  and  keenly  wounded  the  sensibilities  of  the 
haughty  habitues  of  the  Temple.  He  reduced  Judea  to  a 
Roman  province,  and  annexed  it  to  the  prefecture  of  Syria. 
So,  instead  of  a  king  ruling  royally  from  the  palace  left  by 
Herod  on  Mount  Zion,  the  city  fell  into  the  hands  of  an 
officer  of  the  second  grade,  an  appointee  called  procurator, 
who  communicated  with  the  court  in  Rome  through  the 
Legate  of  Syria,  residing  in  Antioch.  To  make  the  hurt 
more  painful,  the  procurator  was  not  permitted  to  establish 
himself  in  Jerusalem  ;  Crcsarea  was  his  seat  of  government. 
Most  humiliating,  however,  most  exasperating,  most  studied, 
Samaria,  of  all  the  world  the  most  despised — Samaria  was 
joined  to  Judea  as  a  part  of  the  same  province  !  "What 
ineffable  misery  the  bigoted  Separatists  or  Pharisees  en 
dured  at  finding  themselves  elbowed  and  laughed  at  in  the 
procurator's  presence  in  Caesarea  by  the  devotees  of  Geri- 
zim  ! 

In  this  rain  of  sorrows,  one  consolation,  and  one  only, 
remained  to  the  fallen  people :  the  high-priest  occupied 
the  Herodian  palace  in  the  market-place,  and  kept  the  sem 
blance  of  a  court  there.  "What  his  authority  really  was  is 
a  matter  of  easy  estimate.  Judgment  of  life  and  death  was 
retained  by  the  procurator.  Justice  was  administered  in 
the  name  and  according  to  the  decretals  of  Rome.  Yet 
more  significant,  the  royal  house  was  jointly  occupied  by 
the  imperial  exciseman,  and  all  his  corps  of  assistants,  regis 
trars,  collectors,  publicans,  informers,  and  spies.  Still,  to  the 
dreamers  of  liberty  to  come,  there  was  a  certain  satisfaction 
in  the  fact  that  the  chief  ruler  in  the  palace  was  a  Jew.  His 
mere  presence  there  day  after  day  kept  them  reminded  of 
the  covenants  and  promises  of  the  prophets,  and  the  ages 
when  Jehovah  governed  the  tribes  through  the  sons  of 
Aaron  ;  it  was  to  them  a  certain  sign  that  he  had -not  aban- 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  83 

doned  them  :  so  their  hopes  lived,  and  served  their  patience, 
and  helped  them  wait  grimly  the  son  of  Judah  who  was  to 
rule  Israel. 

Judea  had  been  a  Roman  province  eighty  years  and 
more — ample  time  for  the  Caesars  to  study  the  idiosyncra 
sies  of  the  people — time  enough,  at  least,  to  learn  that  the 
Jew,  with  all  his  pride,  could  be  quietly  governed  if  his  re 
ligion  were  respected.  Proceeding  upon  that  policy,  the 
predecessors  of  Gratus  had  carefully  abstained  from  inter 
fering  with  any  of  the  sacred  observances  of  their  sub 
jects.  But  he  chose  a  different  course :  almost  his  first 
official  act  was  to  expel  Ilannas  from  the  high-priesthood, 
and  give  the  place  to  Ishmacl,  son  of  Fabus. 

Whether  the  act  was  directed  by  Augustus,  or  pro 
ceeded  from  Gratus  himself,  its  impolicy  became  speedily 
apparent.  The  reader  shall  be  spared  a  chapter  on  Jew 
ish  politics ;  a  few  words  upon  the  subject,  however,  are 
essential  to  such  as  may  follow  the  succeeding  narration 
critically.  At  this  time,  leaving  origin  out  of  view,  there 
were  in  Judea  the  party  of  the  nobles  and  the  Separatist 
or  popular  party.  Upon  Herod's  death,  the  two  united 
against  Archelaus  ;  from  temple  to  palace,  from  Jerusalem 
to  Rome,  they  fought  him  ;  sometimes  with  intrigue,  some 
times  with  the  actual  weapons  of  war.  More  than  once 
the  holy  cloisters  on  Moriah  resounded 'with  the  cries  of 
fighting-men.  Finally,  they  drove  him  into  exile.  Mean 
time  throughout  this  struggle  the  allies  had  their  diverse 
objects  in  view.  The  nobles  hated  Joazar,  the  high-priest ; 
the  Separatists,  on  the  other  hand,  were  his  zealous  adher 
ents.  When  Uerod's  settlement  went  down  with  Arche 
laus,  Joazar  shared  the  fall.  Ilannas,  the  son  of  Seth,  was 
selected  by  the  nobles  to  fill  the  great  office ;  thereupon 
the  allies  divided.  The  induction  of  the  Sethian  brought 
them  face  to  face  in  fierce  hostility. 

In  the  course  of  the  struggle  with  the  unfortunate  eth- 
narch,  the  nobles  had  found  it  expedient  to  attach  them 
selves  to  Rome.  Discerning  that  when  the  existing  settle 
ment  was  broken  up  some  form  of  government  must  needs 
follow,  they  suggested  the  conversion  of  Judea  into  a  prov 
ince.  The  fact  furnished  the  Separatists  an  additional 


84  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

cause  for  attack ;  and,  when  Samaria  was  made  part  of  the 
province,  the  nobles  sank  into  a  minority,  with  nothing  to 
support  them  but  the  imperial  court  and  the  prestige  of 
their  rank  and  wealth;  yet  for  fifteen  years  —  down,  in 
deed,  to  the  coming  of  Valerius  Gratus — they  managed  to 
maintain  themselves  in  both  palace  and  Temple. 

Ilannas,  the  idol  of  his  party,  had  used  his  power  faith 
fully  in  the  interest  of  his  imperial  patron.  A  Roman  gar 
rison  held  the  Tower  of  Antonia  ;  a  Roman  guard  kept  the 
gates  of  the  palace  ;  a  Roman  judge  dispensed  justice  civil 
and  criminal ;  a  Roman  system  of  taxation,  mercilessly  ex 
ecuted,  crushed  both  city  and  country  ;  daily,  hourly,  and 
in  a  thousand  ways,  the  people  were  bruised  and  galled, 
and  taught  the  difference  between  a  life  of  independence 
and  a  life  of  subjection  ;  yet  Hannas  kept  them  in  com 
parative  quiet.  Rome  had  no  truer  friend ;  and  he  made 
his  loss  instantly  felt.  Delivering  his  vestments  to  Ish- 
mael,  the  new  appointee,  he  walked  from  the  courts  of  the 
Temple  into  the  councils  of  the  Separatists,  and  became 
the  head  of  a  new  combination,  Bethusian  and  Sethian. 

Gratus,  the  procurator,  left  thus  without  a  party,  saw  the 
fires  which,  in  the  .fifteen  years,  had  sunk  into  sodden 
smoke  begin  to  glow  with  returning  life.  A  month  after 
Ishmael  took  the  office,  the  Roman  found  it  necessary  to 
visit  him  in  Jerusalem.  "When  from  the  walls,  hooting 
and  hissing  him,  the  Jews  beheld  his  guard  enter  the 
north  gate  of  the  city  and  march  to  the  Tower  of  Antonia, 
they  understood  the  real  purpose  of  the  visit — a  full  co 
hort  of  legionaries  was  added  to  the  former  garrison,  and 
the  keys  of  their  yoke  could  now  be  tightened  with  im 
punity.  If  the  procurator  deemed  it  important  to  make 
an  example,  alas  for  the  first  offender ! 


CHAPTER  II. 

WITH  the  foregoing  explanation  in  mind,  the  reader  is 
invited  to  look  into  one  of  the  gardens  of  the  palace  on 
Mount  Zion.  The  time  was  noonday  in  the  middle  of 
July,  when  the  heat  of  summer  was  at  its  highest. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  85 

The  garden  was  bounded  on  every  side  by  buildings, 
which  in  places  arose  two  stories,  with  verandas  shading 
the  doors  and  windows  of  the  lower  story,  while  retreating 
galleries,  guarded  by  strong  balustrades,  adorned  and  pro 
tected  the  upper.  Here  and  there,  moreover,  the  structures 
fell  into  what  appeared  low  colonnades,  permitting  the  pas 
sage  of  such  winds  as  chanced  to  blow,  and  allowing  other 
parts  of  the  house  to  be  seen,  the  better  to  realize  its  mag 
nitude  and  beauty.  The  arrangement  of  the  ground  was 
equally  pleasant  to  the  eye.  There  were  walks,  and  patch 
es  of  grass  and  shrubbery,  and  a  few  large  trees,  rare  speci 
mens  of  the  palm,  grouped  with  the  carob,  apricot,  and 
walnut.  In  all  directions  the  grade  sloped  gently  from  the 
centre,  where  there  was  a  reservoir,  or  deep  marble  basin, 
broken  at  intervals  by  little  gates  which,  when  raised,  emp 
tied  the  water  into  sluices  bordering  the  walks — a  cunning 
device  for  the  rescue  of  the  place  from  the  aridity  too 
prevalent  elsewhere  in  the  region. 

Not  far  from  the  fountain,  there  was  a  small  pool  of 
clear  water  nourishing  a  clump  of  cane  and  oleander,  such 
as  grow  on  the  Jordan  and  down  by  the  Dead  Sea.  Be 
tween  the  clump  and  the  pool,  unmindful  of  the  sun  shin 
ing  full  upon  them  in  the  breathless  air,  two  boys,  one 
about  nineteen,  the  other  seventeen,  sat  engaged  in  ear 
nest  conversation. 

They  were  both  handsome,  and,  at  first  glance,  would 
have  been  'pronounced  brothers.  Both  had  hair  and  eyes 
black  ;  their  faces  were  deeply  browned  ;  and,  sitting,  they 
seemed  of  a  size  proper  for  the  difference  in  their  ages. 

The  elder  was  bareheaded.  A  loose  tunic,  dropping  to 
the  knees,  was  his  attire  complete,  except  sandals  and  a 
light-blue  mantle  spread  under  him  on  the  seat.  The  cos 
tume  left  his  arms  and  legs  exposed,  and  they  were  brown 
as  the  face ;  nevertheless,  a  certain  grace  of  manner,  re 
finement  of  features,  and  culture  of  voice  decided  his  rank. 
The  tunic,  of  softest  woollen,  gray-tinted,  at  the  neck, 
sleeves,  and  edge  of  the  skirt  bordered  with  red,  and 
bound  to  the  waist  by  a  tasselled  silken  cord,  certified  him 
the  Roman  he  was.  And  if  in  speech  he  now  and  then 
gazed  haughtily  at  his  companion  and  addressed  him  as 


86  BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

an  inferior,  he  might  almost  be  excused,  for  he  was  of  a 
family  noble  even  in  Rome — a  circumstance  which  in  that 
age  justified  any  assumption.  In  the  terrible  wars  be 
tween  the  first  Ctesar  and  his  great  enemies,  a  Mcssala 
had  been  the  friend  of  Brutus.  After  Philippi,  without 
sacrifice  of  his  honor,  he  and  the  conqueror  became  recon 
ciled.  Yet  later,  when  Octavius  disputed  for  the  empire, 
Messala  supported  him.  Octavius,  as  the  Emperor  Au 
gustus,  remembered  the  service,  and  showered  the  family 
with  honors.  Among  other  things,  Judea  being  reduced 
to  a  province,  he  sent  the  son  of  his  old  client  or  retainer 
to  Jerusalem,  charged  with  the  receipt  and  management  of 
the  taxes  levied  in  that  region ;  and  in  that  service  the 
son  had  since  remained,  sharing  the  palace  with  the  high- 
priest.  The  youth  just  described  was  his  son,  whose  habit 
it  was  to  carry  about  with  him  all  too  faithfully  a  remem 
brance  of  the  relation  between  his  grandfather  and  the 
great  Romans  of  his  day. 

The  associate  of  the  Mcssala  was  slighter  in  form,  and 
his  garments  were  of  fine  white  linen  and  of  the  prevalent 
style  in  Jerusalem ;  a  cloth  covered  his  head,  held  by  a 
yellow  cord,  and  arranged  so  as  to  fall  away  from  the  fore 
head  down  low  over  the  back  of  the  neck.  An  observer 
skilled  in  the  distinctions  of  race,  and  studying  his  feat 
ures  more  than  his  costume,  would  have  soon  discovered 
him  to  be  of  Jewish  descent.  The  forehead  of  the  Roman 
was  high  and  narrow,  his  nose  sharp  and  aquiline,  while 
his  lips  were  thin  and  straight,  and  his  eyes  cold  and  close 
under  the  brows.  The  front  of  the  Israelite,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  low  and  broad ;  his  nose  long,  with  expanded 
nostrils ;  his  upper  lip,  slightly  shading  the  lower  one, 
short  and  curving  to  the  dimpled  corners,  like  a  Cupid's 
bow ;  points  which,  in  connection  with  the  round  chin, 
fall  eyes,  and  oval  cheeks  reddened  with  a  wine-like  glow, 
gave  his  face  the  softness,  strength,  and  beauty  peculiar  to 
his  race.  The  comeliness  of  the  Roman  was  severe  and 
chaste,  that  of  the  Jew  rich  and  voluptuous. 

"  Did  you  not  say  the  new  procurator  is  to  arrive  to 
morrow  ?" 

The  question  proceeded  from  the  younger  of  the  friends, 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  87 

• 

and  was  couched  in  Greek,  at  the  time,  singularly  enough, 
the  language  everywhere  prevalent  in  the  politer  circles  of 
Judca ;  having  passed  from  the  palace  into  the  camp  and 
college  ;  thence,  nobody  knew  exactlywhen  or  how,  into 
the  Temple  itself,  and,  for  that  matter,  into  precincts  of 
the  Temple  far  beyond  the  gates  and  cloisters — precincts 
of  a  sanctity  intolerable  for  a  Gentile. 

"  Yes,  to-morrow,"  Messala  answered. 

"  Who  told  you  ?" 

"  I  heard  Ishmael,  the  new  governor  in  the  palace — you 
call  him  high-priest — tell  my  father  so  last  night.  The 
news  had  been  more  credible,  I  grant  you,  coming  from  an 
Egyptian,  who  is  of  a  race  that  has  forgotten  what  truth 
is,  or  even  from  an  Idumaean,  whose  people  never  knew 
what  truth  was ;  but,  to  make  quite  certain,  I  saw  a  centu 
rion  from  the  Tower  this  morning,  and  he  told  me  prep 
arations  were  going  on  for  the  reception ;  that  the  armor 
ers  were  furbishing  the  helmets  and  shields,  and  regild- 
ing  the  eagles  and  globes ;  and  that  apartments  long 
unused  were  being  cleansed  and  aired  as  if  for  an  addi 
tion  to  the  garrison  —  the  body  -  guard,  probably,  of  the 
great  man." 

A  perfect  idea  of  the  manner  in  which  the  answer  was 
given  cannot  be  conveyed,  as  its  fine  points  continually  es 
cape  the  power  behind  the  pen.  The  reader's  fancy  must 
come  to  his  aid ;  and  for  that  he  must  be  reminded  that 
reverence  as  a  quality  of  the  Roman  mind  was  fast  break 
ing  down,  or,  rather,  it  was  becoming  unfashionable.  The 
old  religion  had  nearly  ceased  to  be  a  faith  ;  at  most  it  was 
a  mere  habit  of  thought  and  expression,  cherished  princi 
pally  by  the  priests  who  found  service  in  the  Temple  prof 
itable,  and  the  poets  who,  in  the  turn  of  their  verses,  could 
not  dispense  with  the  familiar  deities  :  there  are  singers  of 
this  age  who  are  similarly  given.  As  philosophy  was  tak 
ing  the  place  of  religion,  satire  was  fast  substituting  rever 
ence  ;  insomuch  that  in  Latin  opinion  it  was  to  every 
speech,  even  to  the  little  diatribes  of  conversation,  salt  to 
viands,  and  aroma  to  wine.  The  young  Messala,  educated 
in  Rome,  but  lately  returned,  had  caught  the  habit  and 
manner;  the  scarce  perceptible  movement  of  the  outer 


88  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHEIST. 

« 

corner  of  the  lower  eyelid,  the  decided  curl  of  the  corre 
sponding  nostril,  and  a  languid  utterance  affected  as  the 
best  vehicle  to  convey  the  idea  of  general  indifference,  but 
more  particularly  because  of  the  opportunities  it  afforded 
for  certain  rhetorical  pauses  thought  to  be  of  prime  im 
portance  to  enable  the  listener  to  take  the  happy  conceit 
or  receive  the  virus  of  the  stinging  epigram.  Such  a  stop 
occurred  in  the  answer  just  given,  at  the  end  of  the  allu 
sion  to  the  Egyptian  and  Idumrcan.  The  color  in  the 
Jewish  lad's  cheeks  deepened,  for  he  remained  silent,  look 
ing  absently  into  the  depths  of  the  pool. 

"  Our  farewell  took  place  in  this  garden.  '  The  peace 
of  the  Lord  go  with  you  !' — your  last  words.  '  The  gods 
keep  you  !'  I  said.  Do  you  remember  ?  How  many  years 
have  passed  since  then  ?" 

"  Five,"  answered  the  Jew,  gazing  into  the  water. 

"  AVell,  you  have  reason  to  be  thankful  to — whom  shall 
I  say  ?  The  gods  ?  No  matter.  You  have  grown  hand 
some  ;  the  Greeks  would  call  you  beautiful — happy  achieve 
ment  of  the  years  !  If  Jupiter  would  stay  content  with 
one  Ganymede,  what  a  cup-bearer  you  would  make  for  the 
emperor !  Tell  me,  my  Judah,  how  the  coming  of  the 
procurator  is  of  such  interest  to  you." 

Judah  bent  his  large  eyes  upon  the  questioner ;  the  gaze 
was  grave  and  thoughtful,  and  caught  the  Roman's,  and 
held  it  while  he  replied,  "  Yes,  five  years.  I  remember 
the  parting  ;  you  went  to  Rome  ;  I  saw  you  start,  and  cried, 
for  I  loved  you.  The  years  are  gone,  and  you  have  come 
back  to  me  accomplished  and  princely — I  do  not  jest ;  and 
yet — yet — I  wish  you  were  the  Messala  you  went  away." 

The  fine  nostril  of  the  satirist  stirred,  and  he  put  on  a 
longer  drawl  as  he  said,  "  Xo,  no ;  not  a  Ganymede — an 
oracle,  my  Judah.  A  few  lessons  from  my  teacher  of 
rhetoric  hard  by  the  Forum — I  will  give  you  a  letter  to 
him  when  you  become  wise  enough  to  accept  a  suggestion 
which  I  am  reminded  to  make  you — a  little  practice  of  the 
art  of  mystery,  and  Delphi  will  receive  you  as  Apollo  him 
self.  At  the  sound  of  your  solemn  voice,  the  Pythia  will 
come  down  to  you  with  her  crown.  Seriously,  O  my  friend, 
in  what  am  I  not  the  Messala  I  went  away  ?  I  once  heard 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   TilE   ClIKIST.  89 

the  greatest  logician  in  the  world.  His  subject  was  Dis 
putation.  One  saying  I  remember  — '  Understand  your 
antagonist  before  you  answer  him.'  Let  me  understand 
you." 

The  lad  reddened  under  the  cynical  look  to  which  he 
was  subjected ;  yet  he  replied,  firmly,  "  You  have  availed 
yourself,  I  see,  of  your  opportunities ;  from  your  teachers 
you  have  brought  away  much  knowledge  and  many  graces. 
You  talk  with  the  ease  of  a  master ;  yet  your  speech  car 
ries  a  sting.  My  Messala,  when  he  went  away,  had  no 
poison  in  his  nature  ;  not  for  the  world  would  he  have  hurt 
the  feelings  of  a  friend." 

The  Roman  smiled  as  if  complimented,  and  raised  his 
patrician  head  a  toss  higher. 

"  0  my  solemn  Judah,  we  are  not  at  Dodona  or  Pytho. 
Drop  the  oracular,  and  be  plain.  Wherein  have  I  hurt 
you  ?" 

The  other  drew  a  long  breath,  and  said,  pulling  at  the 
cord  about  his  waist,  "  In  the  five  years,  I,  too,  have  learned 
somewhat.  Hillel  may  not  be  the  equal  of  the  logician  you 
heard,  and  Simeon  and  Shannnai  arc,  no  doubt,  inferior  to 
your  master  hard  by  the  Forum.  Their  learning  goes  not 
out  into  forbidden  paths ;  those  who  sit  at  their  feet  arise 
enriched  simply  with  knowledge  of  God, the  law, and  Israel; 
and  the  effect  is  love  and  reverence  for  everything  that  per 
tains  to  them.  Attendance  at  the  Great  College,  and  study 
of  what  I  heard  there,  have  taught  me  that  Judea  is  not  as 
she  used  to  be.  I  know  the  space  that  lies  between  an  in 
dependent  kingdom  and  the  petty  province  Judea  is.  I 
were  meaner,  viler,  than  a  Samaritan  not  to  resent  the 
degradation  of  my  country.  Ishmael  is  not  lawfully  high- 
priest,  and  he  cannot  be  while  the  noble  Kaunas  lives; 
yet  he  is  a  Levite ;  one  of  the  devoted  who  for  thousands 
of  years  have  acceptably  served  the  Lord  God  of  our  faith 
and  worship.  His — " 

Messala  broke  in  upon  him  with  a  biting  laugh. 

"  Oh,  I  understand  you  now.  Ishmael,  you  say,  is  a 
usurper,  yet  to  believe  an  Idumaean  sooner  than  Ishmael  is 
to  sting  like  an  adder.  By  the  drunken  son  of  Semele, 
what  it  is  to  be  a  Jew  !  All  men  and  things,  even  heaven 


90  BEN-HUE:  .1  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

and  earth,  change  ;  but  a  Jew  never.  To  him  there  is  no 
backward,  no  forward ;  he  is  what  is  his  ancestor  was  in 
the  beginning.  In  this  sand  I  draw  you  a  circle — there ! 
Now  tell  me  what  more  a  Jew's  life  is  ?  Round  and  round, 
Abraham  here,  Isaac  and  Jacob  yonder,  God  in  the  middle. 
And  the  circle — by  the  master  of  all  thunders  !  the  circle  is 
too  large.  I  draw  it  again —  lie  stopped,  put  his  thumb 
upon  the  ground,  and  swept  the  fingers  about  it.  "  See, 
the  thumb-spot  is  the  Temple,  the  finger-lines  Judea.  Out 
side  the  little  space  is  there  nothing  of  value  ?  The  arts  ! 
Herod  was  a  builder  ;  therefore  he  is  accursed.  Painting, 
sculpture !  to  look  upon  them  is  sin.  Poetry  you  make 
fast  to  your  altars.  Except  in  the  synagogue,  who  of  you 
attempts  eloquence?  In  war  all  you  conquer  in  the  six 
days  you  lose  on  the  seventh.  Such  your  life  and  limit ; 
who  shall  say  no  if  I  laugh  at  you  ?  Satisfied  with  the 
worship  of  such  a  people,  what  is  your  God  to  our  Roman 
Jove,  Avho  lends  us  his  eagles  that  we  may  compass  the 
universe  with  our  arms  ?  Hillel,  Simeon,  Shammai,  Ab- 
talion — what  are  they  to  the  masters  who  teach  that  every 
thing  is  worth  knowing  that  can  be  known  ?" 

The  Jew  arose,  his  face  much  flushed. 

"  No,  no  ;  keep  your  place,  my  Judah,  keep  your  place," 
Messala  cried,  extending  his  hand. 

"  You  mock  me." 

"  Listen  a  little  further.  Directly  " — the  Roman  smiled 
derisively — "  directly  Jupiter  and  his  whole  familv,  Greek 
and  Latin,  will  come  to  me,  as  is  their  habit,  and  make  an 
end  of  serious  speech.  I  am  mindful  of  your  goodness  in 
walking  from  the  old  house  of  your  fathers  to  welcome  me 
back  and  renew  the  love  of  our  childhood — if  we  can.  '  Go.' 
said  my  teacher,  in  his  last  lecture — '  Go,  and,  to  make  your 
lives  great,  remember  Mars  reigns  and  Eros  has  found  his 
eyes.'  He  meant  love  is  nothing,  war  everything.  It  is  so 
in  Rome.  Marriage  is  the  first  step  to  divorce.  Virtue  is 
a  tradesman's  jewel.  Cleopatra,  dying,  bequeathed  her  arts, 
and  is  avenged ;  she  has  a  successor  in  every  Roman's  house. 
The  world  is  going  the  same  way ;  so,  as  to  our  future, 
down  Eros,  up  Mars!  I  am  to  bo  a  soldier;  and  you,  O 
my  Judah,  I  pity  you  ;  what  can  }'ou  be  ?" 


BEX-ITJR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  91 

The  Jew  moved  nearer  the  pool ;  Messala's  drawl  deep 
ened. 

"  Yes,  I  pity  you,  my  fine  Jndah.  From  the  college  to 
the  synagogue ;  then  to  the  Temple ;  then — oh,  a  crown 
ing  glory ! — the  seat  in  the  Sanhedrim.  A  life  without 
opportunities  ;  the  gods  help  you  !  But  I — " 

Judah  looked  at  him  in  time  to  see  the  flush  of  pride 
that  kindled  in  his  haughty  face  as  he  went  on. 

"  But  I — ah,  the  world  is  not  all  conquered.  The  sea 
has  islands  unseen.  In  the  north  there  are  nations  yet  un- 
visited.  The  glory  of  completing  Alexander's  march  to  the 
Far  East  remains  to  some  one.  See  what  possibilities  lie 
before  a  Roman." 

Next  instant  he  resumed  his  drawl. 

"  A  campaign  into  Africa ;  another  after  the  Scythian  ; 
then — a  legion  !  Most  careers  end  there  ;  but  not  mine.  I 
— by  Jupiter !  what  a  conception  ! — I  will  give  up  my  legion 
for  a  prefecture.  Think  of  life  in  Rome  with  money — 
money,  wine,  women,  games — poets  at  the  banquet,  in 
trigues  in  the  court,  dice  all  the  year  round.  Such  a  round 
ing  of  life  may  be — a  fat  prefecture,  and  it  is  mine.  O  my 
Judah,  here  is  Syria!  Judea  is  rich;  Antioch  a  capital 
for  the  gods.  I  will  succeed  Cyrenius,  and  you — shall 
share  my  fortune." 

The  sophists  and  rhetoricians  who  thronged  the  public 
resorts  of  Rome,  almost  monopolizing  the  business  of  teach 
ing  her  patrician  youth,  might  have  approved  these  sayings 
of  Messala,  for  they  were  all  in  the  popular  vein ;  to  the 
young  Jew,  however,  they  were  new,  and  unlike  the  solemn 
style  of  discourse  and  conversation  to  which  he  was  accus 
tomed.  He  belonged,  moreover,  to  a  race  whose  laws, 
modes,  and  habits  of  thought  forbade  satire  and  humor ; 
very  naturally,  therefore,  he  listened  to  his  friend  with 
varying  feelings :  one  moment  indignant,  then  uncertain 
how  to  take  him.  The  superior  airs  assumed  had  been  of 
fensive  to  him  in  the  beginning ;  soon  they  became  irri 
tating,  and  at  last  an  acute  smart.  Anger  lies  close  by  this 
point  in  all  of  us ;  and  that  the  satirist  evoked  in  another 
way.  To  the  Jew  of  the  llerodian  period  patriotism  was 
a  savage  passion  scarcely  hidden  under  his  common  humor, 


92  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

and  so  related  to  liis  history,  religion,  and  God  that  it  re 
sponded  instantly  to  derision  of  them.  AVherefore  it  is 
not  speaking  too  strongly  to  say  that  Messala's  progress 
down  to  the  last  pause  was  exquisite  torture  to  his  hearer ; 
at  that  point  the  latter  said,  with  a  forced  smile, 

"  There  are  a  few,  I  have  heard,  who  can  afford  to  make 
a  jest  of  their  future ;  you  convince  me,  O  my  Messala, 
that  I  am  not  one  of  them." 

The  Roman  studied  him ;  then  replied,  "  AAliy  not  the 
truth  in  a  jest  as  well  as  a  parable  ?  The  great  Fulvia  went 
fishing  the  other  day  ;  she  caught  more  than  all  the  com 
pany  besides.  They  said  it  was  because  the  barb  of  her 
hook  was  covered  with  gold." 

"  Then  you  were  not  merely  jesting?" 

"  My  Judah,  I  see  I  did  not  offer  you  enough,"  the  Roman 
answered,  quickly,  his  eyes  sparkling.  "  When  I  am  prefect, 
with  Judea  to  enrich  me,  I — will  make  you  high-priest." 

The  Jew  turned  off  angrily. 

"Do  not  leave  me,"  said  Messala. 

The  other  stopped  irresolute. 

"  Gods,  Judah,  how  hot  the  sun  shines  !"  cried  the  patri 
cian,  observing  his  perplexity.  "  Let  us  seek  a  shade." 

Judah  answered,  coldly, 

"  AVe  had  better  part.  I  wish  I  had  not  come.  I  sought 
a  friend  and  find  a — 

"  Roman,"  said  Messala,  quickly. 

The  hands  of  the  Jew  clenched,  but  controlling  himself 
again,  he  started  off.  Messala  arose,  and,  taking  the  man 
tle  from  the  bench,  flung  it  over  his  shoulder,  and  followed 
after ;  when  he  gained  his  side,  he  put  his  hand  upon  his 
shoulder  and  walked  with  him. 

"  This  is  the  way — my  hand  thus — we  used  to  walk  when 
we  were  children.  Let  us  keep  it  as  far  as  the  gate." 

Apparently  Messala  was  trying  to  be  serious  and  kind, 
though  he  could  not  rid  his  countenance  of  the  habitual 
satirical  expression.  Judah  permitted  the  familiarity. 

"  You  are  a  boy  ;  I  am  a  man  ;  let  me  talk  like  one." 

The  complacency  of  the  Roman  was  superb.  Mentor 
lecturing  the  young  Telcmachus  could  not  have  been  more 
at  ease. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  93 

"  Do  you  believe  in  the  Parcse  ?  Ah,  I  forgot,  you  are  a 
Sadducee  :  the  Essenes  arc  your  sensible  people  ;  they  be 
lieve  in  the  sisters.  So  do  1.  How  everlastingly  the  three 
are  in  the  way  of  our  doing  what  we  please  !  I  sit  down 
scheming.  I  run  paths  here  and  there.  Pcrpol!  Just 
when  I  am  reaching  to  take  the  world  in  hand,  I  hear  be 
hind  me  the  grinding  of  scissors.  I  look,  and  there  she  is, 
the  accursed  Atropos !  But,  my  Judah,  why  did  you  get 
mad  when  I  spoke  of  succeeding  old  Cyrenius  ?  You 
thought  I  meant  to  enrich  myself  plundering  your  Ju- 
dea.  Suppose  so ;  it  is  what  some  Roman  will  do.  Why 
not  I  ?" 

Judah  shortened  his  step. 

"  There  have  been  strangers  in  mastery  of  Judea  before 
the  Roman,"  he  said,  with  lifted  hand.  "  Where  are  they, 
Messala  ?  She  has  outlived  them  all.  What  has  been  will 
be  again." 

Messala  put  on  his  drawl. 

"  The  Parcao  have  believers  outside  the  Essenes.  Wel 
come,  Judah,  welcome  to  the  faith  !" 

"  No,  Messala,  count  me  not  with  them.  My  faith  rests 
on  the  rock  which  was  the  foundation  of  the  faith  of  my 
fathers  back  further  than  Abraham  ;  on  the  covenants  of 
the  Lord  God  of  Israel." 

"  Too  much  passion,  my  Judah.  How  my  master  would 
have  been  shocked  had  1  been  guilty  of  so  much  heat  in 
his  presence  !  There  were  other  things  I  had  to  tell  you, 
but  I  fear  to  now." 

When  they  had  gone  a  few  yards,  the  Roman  spoke 
again. 

"  I  think  you  can  hear  me  now,  especially  as  what  I  have 
to  say  concerns  yourself.  I  would  serve  you,  O  handsome 
as  Ganymede ;  I  would  serve  you  with  real  good-will.  I 
love  you — all  I  can.  I  told  you  I  meant  to  be  a  soldi«r. 
Why  not  you  also  ?  Why  not  you  step  out  of  the  narrow 
circle  which,  as  I  have  shown,  is  all  of  noble  life  your  laws 
and  customs  allow  ?" 

Judah  made  no  reply. 

"  Who  are  the  wise  men  of  our  day  ?"  Messala  continued. 
"  Not  they  who  exhaust  their  years  quarrelling  about  dead 


94  BEN-HUB:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

things  ;  about  Baals,  Jovcs,  and  Jehovahs  ;  about  philoso 
phies  and  religions.  Give  me  one  great  name,  O  Judah  ;  I 
care  not  where  you  go  to  find  it — to  Rome,  Egypt,  the  East, 
or  here  in  Jerusalem — Pluto  take  me  if  it  belong  not  to  a 
man  who  wrought  his  fame  out  of  the  material  furnished 
him  by  the  present ;  holding  nothing  sacred  that  did  not 
contribute  to  the  end,  scorning  nothing  that  did !  How 
was  it  with  Herod !  How  with  the  Maccabees  ?  How 
with  the  first  and  second  Caesars  ?  Imitate  them.  Begin 
now.  At  hand  see — Rome,  as  ready  to  help  you  as  she 
was  the  Idumaan  Antipater." 

The  Jewish  lad  trembled  with  rage  ;  and,  as  the  garden 
gate  was  close  by,  he  quickened  his  steps,  eager  to  escape. 

"  O  Rome,  Rome  !"  he  muttered. 

"  Be  wise,"  continued  Messala.  "  Give  up  the  follies  of 
Moses  and  the  traditions  ;  see  the  situation  as  it  is.  Dare 
look  the  Parcre  in  the  face,  and  they  will  tell  you,  Rome  is 
the  world.  Ask  them  of  Judca,  and  they  will  answer,  She 
is  what  Rome  wills." 

They  were  now  at  the  gate.  Judah  stopped,  and  took 
the  hand  gently  from  his  shoulder,  and  confronted  Messala, 
tears  trembling  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  understand  you,  because  you  are  a  Roman  ;  you  can 
not  understand  me — I  am  an  Israelite.  You  have  given 
me  suffering  to-day  by  convincing  me  that  we  can  never 
be  the  friends  we  have  been — never !  Here  we  part.  The 
peace  of  the  God  of  my  fathers  abide  with  you !" 

Messala  offered  him  his  hand  ;  the  Jew  walked  on  through 
the  gateway.  "When  he  was  gone,  the  Roman  was  silent 
awhile ;  then  he,  too,  passed  through,  saying  to  himself, 
with  a  toss  of  the  head, 

"  Be  it  so.     Eros  is  dead,  Mars  reigns  !" 


CHAPTER  III. 

FROM  the  entrance  to  the  Holy  City,  equivalent  to  what 
is  now  called  St.  Stephen's  Gate,  a  street  extended  west- 
wardly,  on  a  line  parallel  with  the  northern  front  of  the 
Tower  of  Antonia,  though  a  square  from  that  famous  cas- 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  95 

tie.  Keeping  the  course  as  far  as  the  Tyropoeon  Valley, 
which  it  followed  a  little  way  south,  it  turned  and  again 
ran  west  until  a  short  distance  beyond  what  tradition  tells 
us  was  the  Judgment  Gate,  from  whence  it  broke  abruptly 
south.  The  traveller  or  the  student  familiar  with  the 
sacred  locality  will  recognize  the  thoroughfare  described 
as  part  of  the  Via  Dolorosa — with  Christians  of  more  in 
terest,  though  of  a  melancholy  kind,  than  any  street  in  the 
world.  As  the  purpose  in  view  does  not  at  present  require 
dealing  with  the  whole  street,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  point 
out  a  house  standing  in  the  angle  last  mentioned  as  mark 
ing  the  change  of  direction  south,  and  which,  as  an  im 
portant  centre  of  interest,  needs  somewhat  particular  de 
scription. 

The  building  fronted  north  and  west,  probably  four  hun 
dred  feet  each  way,  and,  like  most  pretentious  Eastern 
structures,  was  two  stories  in  height,  and  perfectly  quad 
rangular.  The  street  on  the  west  side  was  about  twelve 
feet  wide,  that  on  the  north  not  more  than  ten ;  so  that 
one  walking  close  to  the  walls,  and  looking  up  at  them, 
would  have  been  struck  by  the  rude,  unfinished,  uninviting, 
but  strong  and  imposing,  appearance  they  presented ;  for 
they  were  of  stone  laid  in  large  blocks,  undressed — on  the 
outer  side,  in  fact,  just  as  they  were  taken  from  the  quarry. 
A  critic  of  this  age  would  have  pronounced  the  house  for- 
telesque  in  style,  except  for  the  windows,  with  which  it 
was  unusually  garnished,  and  the  ornate  finish  of  the  door 
ways  or  gates.  The  western  windows  were  four  in  num 
ber,  the  northern  only  two,  all  set  on  the  line  of  the  second 
story  in  such  manner  as  to  overhang  the  thoroughfares 
below.  The  gates  were  the  only  breaks  of  wall  externally 
visible  in  the  first  story ;  and,  besides  being  so  thickly 
riven  with  iron  bolts  as  to  suggest  resistance  to  battering- 
rams,  they  were  protected  by  cornices  of  marble,  hand 
somely  executed,  and  of  such  bold  projection  as  to  assure 
visitors  well  informed  of  the  people  that  the  rich  man  who 
resided  there  was  a  Sadducec  in  politics  and  creed. 

Not  long  after  the  young  Jew  parted  from  the  Roman 
at  the  palace  up  on  the  Market-place,  he  stopped  before 
the  western  gate  of  the  house  described,  and  knocked.  The 


90  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

wicket  (a  door  hung  in  one  of  the  valves  of  the  gate)  was 
opened  to  admit  him.  He  stepped  in  hastily,  and  failed 
to  acknowledge  the  low  salaam  of  the  porter. 

To  get  an  idea  of  the  interior  arrangement  of  the  struc 
ture,  as  well  as  to  see  what  more  befell  the  youth,  we  will 
follow  him. 

The  passage  into  which  he  was  admitted  appeared  not 
unlike  a  narrow  tunnel  with  panelled  walls  and  pitted 
ceiling.  There  were  benches  of  stone  on  both  sides,  stained 
and  polished  by  long  use.  Twelve  or  fifteen  steps  carried 
him  into  a  court-yard,  oblong  north  and  south,  and  in  every 
quarter,  except  the  east,  bounded  by  what  seemed  the  fronts 
of  two-story  houses ;  of  which  the  lower  floor  was  divided 
into  lewens,  while  the  upper  was  terraced  and  defended  by 
strong  balustrading.  The  servants  coming  and  going 
along  the  terraces ;  the  noise  of  millstones  grinding ;  the 
garments  fluttering  from  ropes  stretched  from  point  to 
point ;  the  chickens  and  pigeons  in  full  enjoyment  of  the 
place  ;  the  goats,  cows,  donkeys,  and  horses  stabled  in  the 
lewens  ;  a  massive  trough  of  water,  apparently  for  the  com 
mon  use,  declared  this  court  appurtenant'  to  the  domestic 
management  of  the  owner.  Eastwardly  there  was  a  division 
Avail  broken  by  another  passage-way  in  all  respects  like  the 
first  one. 

Clearing  the  second  passage,  the  young  man  entered  a 
second  court,  spacious,  square,  and  set  with  shrubbery  and 
vines,  kept  fresh  and  beautiful  by  water  from  a  basin 
erected  near  a  porch  on  the  north  side.  The  lewens  here 
were  high,  airy,  and  shaded  by  curtains  striped  alternate 
white  and  red.  The  arches  of  the  lewens  rested  on  clustered 
columns.  A  flight  of  steps  on  the  south  ascended  to  the 
terraces  of  the  upper  story,  over  which  great  awnings  were 
stretched  as  a  defence  against  the  sun.  Another  stairway 
reached  from  the  terraces  to  the-  roof,  the  edge  of  which, 
all  around  the  square,  was  defined  by  a  sculptured  cornice, 
and  a  parapet  of  burned-clay  tiling,  sexangular  and  bright 
red.  In  this  quarter,  moreover,  there  was  everywhere  ob 
servable  a  scrupulous  neatness,  which,  allowing  no  dust  in 
the  angles,  not  even  a  yellow  leaf  upon  a  shrub,  contributed 
quite  as  much  as  anything  else  to  the  delightful  general 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  97 

effect ;  insomuch  that  a  visitor,  breathing  the  sweet  air, 
knew,  in  advance  of  introduction,  the  refinement  of  the 
family  he  was  about  calling  upon. 

A  few  steps  within  the  second  court,  the  lad  turned  to 
the  right,  and,  choosing  a  walk  through  the  shrubbery,  part 
of  which  was  in  flower,  passed  to  the  stairway,  and  ascended 
to  the  terrace — a  broad  pavement  of  white  and  brown  flags 
closely  laid,  and  much  worn.  Making  way  under  the  awn 
ing  to  a  doorway  on  the  north  side,  he  entered  an  apart 
ment  which  the  dropping  of  the  screen  behind  him  returned 
to  darkness.  Nevertheless,  he  proceeded,  moving  over  a  tiled 
floor  to  a  divan,  upon  which  he  flung  himself,  face  down 
wards,  and  lay  at  rest,  his  forehead  upon  his  crossed  arms. 

About  nightfall  a  woman  came  to  the  door  and  called ; 
he  answered,  and  she  went  in. 

"  Supper  is  over,  and  it  is  night.  Is  not  my  son  hun 
gry?"  she  asked. 

"  No,"  he  replied. 

"  Are  you  sick  ?" 

"  I  am  sleepy." 

"  Your  mother  has  asked  for  you." 

"  Where  is  she  ?" 

"  In  the  summer-house  on  the  roof." 

He  stirred  himself,  and  sat  up. 

"  Very  well.     Bring  me  something  to  eat." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?" 

"  What  you  please,  Amrah.  I  am  not  sick,  but  indif 
ferent.  Life  does  not  seem  as  pleasant  as  it  did  this  morn 
ing.  A  new  ailment,  O  my  Amrah ;  and  you  who  know  me 
so  well,  who  never  failed  me,  may  think  of  the  things  now 
that  answer  for  food  and  medicine.  Bring  me  what  you 
choose." 

Amrah's  questions,  and  the  voice  in  which  she  put  them 
— low,  sympathetic,  and  solicitous — were  significant  of  an 
endeared  relation  between  the  two.  She  laid  her  hand 
upon  his  forehead ;  then,  as  satisfied,  went  out,  saying,  "  I 
will  see." 

After  a  while  she  returned,  bearing  on  a  wooden  platter 
a  bowl  of  milk,  some  thin  cakes  of  white  bread  broken,  a 
delicate  paste  of  brayed  wheat,  a  bird  broiled,  and  honey  and 
7 


08  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

salt.  On  one  end  of  the  platter  there  was  a  silver  goblet 
full  of  wine,  on  the  other  a  brazen  hand-lamp  lighted. 

The  room  was  then  revealed:  its  walls  smoothly  plas 
tered;  the  ceiling  broken  by  great  oaken  rafters,  brown 
with  rain  -  stains  and  time ;  the  floor  of  small  diamond- 
shaped  white  and  blue  tiles,  very  firm  and  enduring  ;  a  few 
stools  with  legs  carved  in  imitation  of  the  legs  of  lions ;  a 
divan  raised  a  little  above  the  floor,  trimmed  with  blue 
cloth,  and  partially  covered  by  an  immense  striped  woollen 
blanket  or  shawl — in  brief,  a  Hebrew  bedroom. 

The  same  light  also  gave  the  woman  to  view.  Drawing 
a  stool  to  the  divan,  she  placed  the  platter  upon  it,  then 
knelt  close  by  ready  to  serve  him.  Her  face  was  that  of 
a  woman  of  fifty,  dark-skinned,  dark-eyed,  and  at  the  mo 
ment  softened  by  a  look  of  tenderness  almost  maternal. 
A  white  turban  covered  her  head,  leaving  the  lobes  of  the 
ear  exposed,  and  in  them  the  sign  that  settled  her  condi 
tion — an  orifice  bored  by  a  thick  awl.  She  was  a  slave,  of 
Egyptian  origin,  to  whom  not  even  the  sacred  fiftieth  year 
could  have  brought  freedom  ;  nor  would  she  have  accepted 
it,  for  the  boy  she  was  attending  Avas  her  life.  She  had 
nursed  him  through  babyhood,  tended  him  as  a  child,  and 
could  not  break  the  service.  To  her  love  he  could  never 
be  a  man. 

He  spoke  but  once  during  the  meal. 

"  You  remember,  0  my  Amrah,"  he  said,  "  the  Messala 
who  used  to  visit  me  here  days  at  a  time." 

"  I  remember  him." 

"  He  went  to  Rome  some  years  ago,  and  is  now  back.  I 
called  upon  him  to-day." 

A  shudder  of  disgust  seized  the  lad. 

"  I  knew  something  had  happened,"  she  said,  deeply  in 
terested.  "  I  never  liked  the  Messala.  Tell  me  all." 

But  he  fell  into  musing,  and  to  her  repeated  inquiries 
only  said,  "  He  is  much  changed,  and  I  shall  have  nothing 
more  to  do  with  him." 

When  Amrah  took  the  platter  away,  he  also  went  out, 
and  up  from  the  terrace  to  the  roof. 

The  reader  is  presumed  to  know  somewhat  of  the  uses 
of  the  house-top  in  the  East.  In  the  matter  of  customs, 


BEX-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  99 

climate  is  a  lawgiver  everywhere.  The  Syrian  summer 
day  drives  the  seeker  of  comfort  into  the  darkened  lewen  ; 
night,  however,  calls  him  forth  early,  and  the  shadows  deep 
ening  over  the  mountain-sides  seem  veils  dimly  covering 
Circean  singers  ;  but  they  are  far  off,  while  the  roof  is  close 
by,  and  raised  above  the  level  of  the  shimmering  plain  enough 
for  the  visitation  of  cool  airs,  and  sufficiently  above  the  trees 
to  allure  the  stars  down  closer,  down  at  least  into  brighter 
shining.  So  the  roof  became  a  resort — became  playground, 
sleeping-chamber,  boudoir,  rendezvous  for  the  family,  place 
of  music,  dance,  conversation,  reverie,  and  prayer. 

The  motive  that  prompts  the  decoration,  at  whatever  cost, 
of  interiors  in  colder  climes  suggested  to  the  Oriental  the 
embellishment  of  his  house-top.  The  parapet  ordered  by 
Moses  became  a  potter's  triumph ;  above  that,  later,  arose 
towers,  plain  and  fantastic ;  still  later,  kings  and  princes 
crowned  their  roofs  with  summer-houses  of  marble  and 
gold.  When  the  Babylonian  hung  gardens  in  the  air,  ex 
travagance  could  push  the  idea  no  further. 

The  lad  whom  we  are  following  walked  slowly  across  the 
house-top  to  a  tower  built  over  the  northwest  corner  of  the 
palace.  Had  he  been  a  stranger,  he  might  have  bestowed  a 
glance  upon  the  structure  as  he  drew  nigh  it,  and  seen  all 
the  dimness  permitted — a  darkened  mass,  low,  latticed,  pil 
lared,  and  domed.  He  entered,  passing  under  a  half -raised 
curtain.  The  interior  was  all  darkness,  except  that  on  four 
sides  there  were  arched  openings  like  doorways,  through 
which  the  sky,  lighted  with  stars,  was  visible.  In  one  of 
the  openings,  reclining  against  a  cushion  from  a  divan,  he 
saw  the  figure  of  a  woman,  indistinct  even  in  white  floating 
drapery.  At  the  sound  of  his  steps  upon  the  floor,  the  fan 
in  he»  hand  stopped,  glistening  where  the  starlight  struck 
the  jewels  with  which  it  was  sprinkled,  and  she  sat  up,  and 
called  his  name. 

"  Judah,  my  son  !" 

"  It  is  I,  mother,"  he  answered,  quickening  his  approach. 

Going  to  her,  he  knelt,  and  she  put  her  arms  around  him, 
and  with  kisses  pressed  him  to  her  bosom. 


100  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   TIIE   CHRIST. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  mother  resumed  her  easy  position  against  the  cush 
ion,  while  the  son  took  place  on  the  divan,  his  head  in  her 
lap.  Both  of  them,  looking  out  of  the  opening,  could  see 
a  stretch  of  lower  house-tops  in  the  vicinity,  a  bank  of  blue 
blackness  over  in  the  west  which  they  knew  to  be  moun 
tains,  and  the  sky,  its  shadowy  depths  brilliant  with  stars. 
The  city  was  still.  Only  the  winds  stirred. 

.  "  Amrah  tells  me  something  has  happened  to  you,"  she 
said,  caressing  his  cheek.  "  When  my  Judah  was  a  child,  I 
allowed  small  things  to  trouble  him,  but  he  is  now  a  man. 
He  must  not  forget" — her  voice  became  very  soft — "that 
one  day  he  is  to  be  my  hero." 

She  spoke  in  the  language  almost  lost  in  the  land,  but 
which  a  few — and  they  were  always  as  rich  in  blood  as  in 
possessions — cherished  in  its  purity,  that  they  might  be 
more  certainly  distinguished  from  Gentile  peoples  —  the 
language  in  which  the  loved  Rebekah  and  Rachel  sang  to 
Benjamin. 

The  words  appearejd  to  set  him  thinking  anew ;  after  a 
while,  however,  he  caught  the  hand  with  which  she  fanned 
him,  and  said,  "  To-day,  O  my  mother,  I  have  been  made 
to  think  of  many  things  that  never  had  place  in  my  mind 
before.  Tell  me,  first,  what  am  I  to  be  ?" 

"  Have  I  not  told  you  ?     You  are  to  be  my  hero." 

He  could  not  see  her  face,  yet  he  knew  she  was  in  play. 
He  became  more  serious. 

"  You  are  very  good,  very  kind,  0  my  mother.  No  one 
will  ever  love  me  as  you  do." 

He  kissed  the  hand  over  and  over  again. 

"  I  think  I  understand  why  you  would  have  me  put  off 
the  question,"  he  continued.  "  Thus  far  my  life  has  be 
longed  to  you.  How  gentle,  how  sweet,  your  control  has 
been  !  I  wish  it  could  last  forever.  But  that  may  not  be. 
It  is  the  Lord's  will  that  I  shall  one  day  become  owner  of 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  101 

myself — a  day  of  separation,  and  therefore  a  dreadful  day 
to  you.  Let  us  be  brave  and  serious.  I  will  be  your  hero, 
but  you  must  put  me  in  the  way.  You  know  the  law — - 
every  son  of  Israel  must  have  some  occupation.  I  am  not 
exempt,  and  ask  now,  shall  I  tend  the  herds  ?  or  till  the  soil  ? 
or  drive  the  saw  ?  or  be  a  clerk  or  a  lawyer  ?  AVhat  shall  I 
be  ?  Dear,  good  mother,  help  me  to  an  answer." 

"  Gamaliel  has  been  lecturing  to-day,"  she  said,  thought 
fully. 

"  If  so,  I  did  not  hear  him." 

"  Then  you  have  been  walking  with  Simeon,  who,  they 
tell  me,  inherits  the  genius  of  his  family.'* 

"  No,  I  have  not  seen  him.  I  have  been  up  on  the  Mar 
ket-place,  not  to  the  Temple.  I  visited  the  young  Messala." 

A  certain  change  in  his  voice  attracted  the  mother's  at 
tention.  A  presentiment  quickened  the  beating  of  her 
heart ;  the  fan  became  motionless  again. 

"  The  Messala !"  she  said.  "  What  could  he  say  to  so 
trouble  you  ?" 

"  He  is  very  much  changed." 

"  You  mean  he  has  come  back  a  Roman." 

"  Yes." 

"  Roman  !"  she  continued,  half  to  herself.  "  To  all  the 
world  the  word  means  master.  How  long  has  he  been 
away  ?" 

"  Five  years." 

She  raised  her  head,  and  looked  off  into  the  night. 

"  The  airs  of  the  Via  Sacra  are  well  enough  in  the  streets 
of  the  Egyptian  and  in  Babylon ;  but  in  Jerusalem — our 
Jerusalem — the  covenant  abides." 

And,  full  of  the  thought,  she  settled  back  into  her  easy 
place.  He  was  first  to  speak. 

"  AVhat  Messala  said,  my  mother,  was  sharp  enough  in 
itself ;  but,  taken  with  the  manner,  some  of  the  sayings 
were  intolerable." 

"  I  think  I  understand  you.  Rome,  her  poets,  orators, 
senators,  courtiers,  are  mad  with  affectation  of  what  they 
call  satire." 

"  I  suppose  all  great  peoples  are  proud,"  he  went  on, 
scarcely  noticing  the  interruption  ;  u  but  the  pride  of  that 


102  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

people  is  unlike  all  others;  in  these  latter  days  it  is  so 
grown  the  gods  barely  escape  it." 

"  The  gods  escape  !"  said  the  mother,  quickly.  "  More 
than  one  Roman  has  accepted  worship  as  his  divine  right." 

"  Well,  Messala  always  had  his  share  of  the  disagreeable 
quality.  When  he  was  a  child,  I  have  seen  him  mock 
strangers  whom  even  Herod  condescended  to  receive  with 
honors  ;  yet  he  always  spared  Judea.  For  the  first  time,  in 
conversation  with  me  to-day,  he  trifled  with  our  customs 
and  God.  As  you  would  have  had  me  do,  I  parted  with 
him  finally.  And  noAV,  0  my  dear  mother,  I  would  know 
with  more  certainty  if  there  be  just  ground  for  the  Roman's 
contempt.  In  what  am  I  his  inferior  ?  Is  ours  a  lo\ver  or 
der  of  people  ?  Why  should  I,  even  in  Caesar's  presence, 
feel  the  shrinking  of  a  slave  ?  Tell  me  especially  why,  if  I 
have  the  soul,  and  so  choose,  I  may  not  hunt  the  honors  of 
the  world  in  all  its  fields  ?  Why  may  not  I  take  sword  and 
indulge  the  passion  of  war?  As  a  poet,  why  may  not  I 
sing  of  all  themes  ?  I  can  be  a  worker  in  metals,  a  keeper 
of  flocks,  a  merchant,  why  not  an  artist  like  the  Greek  ? 
Tell  me,  O  my  mother — and  this  is  the  sum  of  my  trouble 
— why  may  not  a  son  of  Israel  do  all  a  Roman  may  ?" 

The  reader  will  refer  these  questions  back  to  the  conver 
sation  in  the  Market-place ;  the  mother,  listening  Avith  all 
her  faculties  awake,  from  something  which  would  have  been 
lost  upon  one  less  interested  in  him — from  the  connections 
of  the  subject,  the  pointing  of  the  questions,  possibly  his  ac 
cent  and  tone — was  not  less  swift  in  making  the  same  refer 
ence.  She  sat  up,  and  in  a  voice  quick  and  sharp  as  his 
own,  replied,  "  I  see,  I  see !  From  association  Messala,  in 
boyhood,  was  almost  a  Jew ;  had  he  remained  here,  he 
might  have  become  a  proselyte,  so  much  do  we  all  borrow 
from  the  influences  that  ripen  our  lives ;  but  the  years  in 
>  Rome  have  been  too  much  for  him.  I  do  not  wonder  at 
the  change;  yet" — her  voice  fell — "he  might  have  dealt 
tenderly  at  least  with  you.  It  is  a  hard,  cruel  nature  which 
in  youth  can  forget  its  first  loves." 

Her  hand  dropped  lightly  upon  his  forehead,  and  the  fin 
gers  caught  in  his  hair  and  lingered  there  lovingly,  while  her 
eyes  sought  the  highest  stars  in  view.  Her  pride  responded 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST.  103 

to  his,  not  merely  in  echo,  but  in  the  unison  of  perfect  sym 
pathy.  She  would  answer  him  ;  at  the  same  time,  not  foi 
the  world  would  she  have  had  the  answer  unsatisfactory : 
an  admission  of  inferiority  might  weaken  his  spirit  for  life. 
She  faltered  with  misgivings  of  her  own  powers. 

"  What  you  propose,  O  my  Judah,  is  not  a  subject  for 
treatment  by  a  woman.  Let  me  put  its  consideration  off 
till  to-rnorrow,  and  I  will  have  the  Avise  Simeon — " 

"  Do  not  send  me  to  the  Rector,"  he  said,  abruptly. 

"  I  will  have  him  come  to  us." 

"  No,  I  seek  more  than  information ;  while  he  might 
give  me  that  better  than  you,  O  my  mother,  you  can  do 
better  by  giving  me  what  he  cannot — the  resolution  which 
is  the  soul  of  a  man's  soul." 

She  swept  the  heavens  with  a  rapid  glance,  trying  to 
compass  all  the  meaning  of  his  questions. 

"  While  craving  justice  for  ourselves,  it  is  never  wise  to 
be  unjust  to  others.  To  deny  valor  in  the  enemy  we  have 
conquered  is  to  underrate  our  victory ;  and  if  the  enemy 
be  strong  enough  to  hold  us  at  bay,  much  more  to  conquer 
us  " — she  hesitated — "  self-respect  bids  us  seek  some  other 
explanation  of  our  misfortunes  than  accusing  him  of  quali 
ties  inferior  to  our  own." 

Thus,  speaking  to  herself  rather  than  to  him,  she  began  : 

"  Take  heart,  O  my  son.  The  Messala  is  nobly  descended ; 
his  family  has  been  illustrious  through  many  generations. 
In  the  days  of  Republican  Rome — how  far  back  I  cannot 
tell — they  were  famous,  some  as  soldiers,  some  as  civilians. 
I  can  recall  but  one  consul  of  the  name  ;  their  rank  was  sena 
torial,  and  their  patronage  always  sought  because  they  were 
always  rich.  Yet  if  to-day  your  friend  boasted  of  his  ances 
try,  you  might  have  shamed  him  by  recounting  yours.  If 
he  referred  to  the  ages  through  which  the  line  is  traceable, 
or  to  deeds,  rank,  or  wealth — such  allusions,  except  when 
great  occasion  demands  them,  are  tokens  of  small  minds — 
if  he  mentioned  them  in  proof  of  his  superiority,  then  with 
out  dread,  and  standing  on  each  particular,  you  might  have 
challenged  him  to  a  comparison  of  records." 

Taking  a  moment's  thought,  the  mother  proceeded  : 

"  One  of  the  ideas  of  fast  hold  now  is  that  time  has 


104  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

much  to  do  with  the  nobility  of  races  and  families.  A  Ro 
man  boasting  his  superiority  on  that  account  over  a  son  of 
Israel  will  always  fail  when  put  to  the  proof.  The  found 
ing  of  Rome  was  his  beginning  ;  the  very  best  of  them  can 
not  trace  their  descent  beyond  that  period ;  few  of  them 
pretend  to  do  so ;  and  of  such  as  do,  I  say  not  one  could 
make  good  his  claim  expect  by  resort  to  tradition.  Messala 
certainly  could  not.  Let  us  look  now  to  ourselves.  Could 
we  better  ?" 

A  little  more  light  would  have  enabled  him  to  see  the 
pride' that  diffused  itself  over  her  face. 

"  Let  us  imagine  the  Roman  putting  us  to  the  challenge. 
I  would  answer  him,  neither  doubting  nor  boastful." 

Her  voice  faltered ;  a  tender  thought  changed  the  form 
of  the  argument. 

"  Your  father,  O  my  Judah,  is  at  rest  with  his  fathers ; 
yet  I  remember,  as  though  it  were  this  evening,  the  day  he 
and  I,  with  many  rejoicing  friends,  went  up  into  the  Temple 
to  present  you  to  the  Lord.  "VVe  sacrificed  the  doves,  and 
to  the  priest  I  gave  your  name,  which  he  wrote  in  my  pres 
ence — '  Judah,  son  of  Ithamar,  of  the  House  of  Hur.'  The 
name  was  then  carried  away,  and  written  in  a  book  of  the 
division  of  records  devoted  to  the  saintly  family. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  when  the  custom  of  registration  in 
this  mode  began.  We  know  it  prevailed  before  the  flight 
from  Egypt.  I  have  heard  Hillel  say  Abraham  caused  the 
record  to  be  first  opened  with  his  own  name,  and  the  names 
of  his  sons,  moved  by  the  promises  of  the  Lord  which  sepa 
rated  him  and  them  from  all  other  races,  and  made  them  the 
highest  and  noblest,  the  very  chosen  of  the  earth.  The 
covenant  with  Jacob  was  of  like  effect.  '  In  thy  seed  shall 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth  be  blessed ' — so  said  the  angel 
to  Abraham  in  the  place  Jehovah-jireh.  '  And  the  land 
whereon  thou  liest,  to  thee  will  I  give  it,  and  to  thy  seed  ' — 
so  the  Lord  himself  said  to  Jacob  asleep  at  Bethel  on  the 
way  to  Haran.  Afterwards  the  wise  men  looked  forward 
to  a  just  division  of  the  land  of  promise  ;  and,  that  it  might 
be  known  in  the  day  of  partition  who  were  entitled  to  por 
tions,  the  Book  of  Generations  was  begun.  But  not  for 
that  alone.  The  promise  of  a  blessing  to  all  the  earth 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  105 

through  the  patriarch  reached  far  into  the  future.  One  name 
was  mentioned  in  connection  with  the  blessing — the  bene 
factor  might  be  the  humblest  of  the  chosen  family,  for  the 
Lord  our  God  knows  no  distinctions  of  rank  or  riches.  So, 
to  make  the  performance  clear  to  men  of  the  generation 
who  were  to  witness  it,  and  that  they  might  give  the  glory 
to  whom  it  belonged,  the  record  was  required  to  be  kept 
with  absolute  certainty.  Has  it  been  so  kept  ?" 

The  fan  played  to  and  fro,  until,  becoming  impatient,  he 
repeated  the  question,  "  Is  the  record  absolutely  true  ?" 

"  Hillel  said  it  was,  and  of  all  who  have  lived  no"  one 
was  so  well-informed  upon  the  subject.  Our  people  have 
at  times  been  heedless  of  some  parts  of  the  law,  but  never 
of  this  part.  The  good  rector  himself  has  followed  the 
Books  of  Generations  through  three  periods — from  the 
promises  to  the  opening  of  the  Temple  ;  thence  to  the  Cap 
tivity  ;  thence,  again,  to  the  present.  Once  only  were  the 
records  disturbed,  and  that  was  at  the  end  of  the  second 
period ;  but  when  the  nation  returned  from  the  long  exile, 
as  a  first  duty  to  God,  Zerubbabel  restored  the  Books,  en 
abling  us  once  more  to  carry  the  lines  of  Jewish  descent 
back  unbroken  fully  two  thousand  years.  And  now — " 

She  paused  as  if  to  allow  the  hearer  to  measure  the  time 
comprehended  in  the  statement. 

u  And  now,"  she  continued,  "  what  becomes  of  the  Ro 
man  boast  of  blood  enriched  by  ages?  By  that  test,  the 
sons  of  Israel  watching  the  herds  on  old  Rephaim  yonder 
are  nobler  than  the  noblest  of  the  Marcii." 

"  And  I,  mother — by  the  Books,  who  am  I  ?" 

"  What  I  have  said  thus  far,  my  son,  had  reference  to 
your  question.  I  will  answer  you.  If  Messala  were  here, 
lie  might  say,  as  others  have  said,  that  the  exact  trace  of 
your  lineage  stopped  when  the  Assyrian  took  Jerusalem, 
and  razed  the  Temple,  with  all  its  precious  stores ;  but  you 
might  plead  the  pious  action  of  Zerubbabel,  and  retort  that 
all  verity  in  Roman  genealogy  ended  when  the  barbarians 
from  the  West  took  Rome,  and  camped  six  months  upon 
her  desolated  site.  Did  the  government  keep  family  his 
tories  ?  If  so,  what  became  of  them  in  those  dreadful 
days  ?  No,  no ;  there  is  verity  in  our  Books  of  Generations ; 


106  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

and,  following  them  back  to  the  Captivity,  back  to  the  foun 
dation  of  the  first  Temple,  back  to  the  march  from  Egypt, 
we  have  absolute  assurance  that  you  are  lineally  sprung 
from  Hur,  the  associate  of  Joshua.  In  the  matter  of  de 
scent  sanctified  by  time,  is  not  the  honor  perfect  ?  Do  you 
care  to  pursue  further  ?  if  so,  take  the  Torah,  and  search  the 
Book  of  Numbers,  and  of  the  seveiity-two  generations  after 
Adam  you  can  find  the  very  progenitor  of  your  house." 

There  was  silence  for  a  time  in  the  chamber  on  the  roof. 

"  I  thank  you,  O  my  mother,"  Judah  next  said,  clasping 
both  her  hands  in  his  ;  "  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart.  I 
was  right  in  not  having  the  good  rector  called  in  ;  he  could 
not  have  satisfied  me  more  than  you  have.  Yet  to  make 
a  family  truly  noble,  is  time  alone  sufficient  ?" 

"  Ah,  you  forget,  you  forget ;  our  claim  rests  not  merely 
upon  time ;  the  Lord's  preference  is  our  especial  glory." 

"  You  are  speaking  of  the  race,  and  I,  mother,  of  the 
family — our  family.  In  the  years  since  Father  Abraham, 
what  have  they  achieved  ?  What  have  they  done  ?  What 
great  things  to  lift  them  above  the  level  of  their  fellows?" 

She  hesitated,  thinking  she  might  all  this  time  have  mis 
taken  his  object.  The  information  he  sought  might  have 
been  for  more  than  satisfaction  of  wounded  vanity.  Yquth_ 
is  but  the  painted  shell  within  which,  continually  growing^ 
jiyes^that  wondrous  thing  the  spirit  of  a  man,  bidins^  its 
moment  of  apparition,  earlier  in  some  than  in  others.  She 
trembled  under  a  perception  that  this  might  be  the  su 
preme  moment  come  to  him  ;  that  as  children  at  birth  reach 
out  their  untried  hands  grasping  for  shadows,  and  crying 
the  while,  so  his  spirit  might,  in  temporary  blindness,  be 
struggling  to  take  hold  of  its  impalpable  future.  They  to 
whom  a  boy  comes  asking,  AVho  am  I,  and  what  am  I  to 
be  ?  have  need  of  ever  so  much  care.  Each  word  in  an 
swer  may  prove  to  the  after-life  what  each  finger-touch  of 
the  artist  is  to  the  clay  he  is  modelling. 

"  I  have  a  feeling,  0  my  Judah,"  she  said,  patting  his 
cheek  with  the  hand  he  had  been  caressing — "  I  have  the 
feeling  that  all  I  have  said  has  been  in  strife  with  an  antag 
onist  more  real  than  imaginary.  If  Messala  is  the  enemy,  do 
not  leave  me  to  fight  him  in  the  dark.  Tell  me  all  he  said." 


BEX-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  107 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  young  Israelite  proceeded  then,  and  rehearsed  his 
conversation  with  Messala,  dwelling  with  particularity  upon 
the  latter's  speeches  in  contempt  of  the  Jews,  their  cus 
toms,  and  much  pent  round  of  life. 

Afraid  to  speak  the  while,  the  mother  listened,  discern 
ing  the  matter  plainly.  Judah  had  gone  to  the  palace  on 
the  Market-place,  allured  by  love  of  a  playmate  whom  he 
thought  to  find  exactly  as  he  had  been  at  the  parting  years 
before  ;  a  man  met  him,  and,  in  place  of  laughter  and  refer 
ences  to  the  sports  of  the  past,  the  man  had  been  full  of 
the  future,  and  talked  of  glory  to  be  won,  and  of  riches 
and  power.  Unconscious  of  the  effect,  the  visitor  had  come 
away  hurt  in  pride,  yet  touched  with  a  natural  ambition ; 
but  she,  the  jealous  mother,  saw  it,  and,  not  knowing  the 
turn  the  aspiration  might  take,  became  at  once  Jewish  in 
her  fear.  What  if  it  lured  him  away  from  the  patriarchal 
faith  ?  In  her  view,  that  consequence  was  more  dreadful 
than  any  or  all  others.  She  could  discover  but  one  way  to 
avert  it,  and  she  set  about  the  task,  her  native  power  rein 
forced  by  love  to  such  degree  that  her  speech  took  a  mas 
culine  strength  and  at  times  a  poet's  fervor. 

"  There  never  has  been  a  people,"  she  began,  "  who  did 
not  think  themselves  at  least  equal  to  any  other ;  never  a 
great  nation,  my  son,  that  did  not  believe  itself  the  very  su 
perior.  When  the  Roman  looks  down  upon  Israel  and 
laughs,  he  merely  repeats  the  folly  of  the  Egyptian,  the 
Assyrian,  and  the  Macedonian  ;  and  as  the  laugh  is  against 
God,  the  result  will  be  the  same." 

Her  voice  became  firmer. 

"  There  is  no  law  by  which  to  determine  the  superiority 
of  nations  ;  hence  the  vanity  of  the  claim,  and  the  idleness 
of  disputes  about  it.  A  people  risen,  run  their  race,  and 
die  cither  of  themselves  or  at  the  hands  of  another,  who, 
succeeding  to  their  power,  take  possession  of  their  place, 


108  BEN-HTTR:   A   TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST. 

and  upon  their  monuments  write  new  names ;  such  is  his 
tory.  If  I  were  called  upon  to  symbolize  God  and  man  in 
the  simplest  form,  I  would  draw  a  straight  line  and  a  cir 
cle  ;  and  of  the  line  I  would  say, '  This  is  God,  for  he  alone 
moves  forever  straightforward  ;'  and  of  the  circle,  '  This  is 
man — such  is  his  progress.'  I  do  not  mean  that  there  is 
no  difference  between  the  careers  of  nations  ;  no  two  are 
alike.  The  difference,  however,  is  not,  as  some  say,  in  the 
extent  of  the  circle  they  describe  or  the  space  of  earth 
they  cover,  but  in  the  sphere  of  their  movement,  the  high 
est  being  nearest  God. 

"  To  stop  here,  my  son,  would  be  to  leave  the  subject 
where  we  began.  Let  us  go  on.  There  are  signs  by  which 
to  measure  the  height  of  the  circle  each  nation  runs  while 
in  its  course.  By  them  let  us  compare  the  Hebrew  and 
the  Roman. 

"  The  simplest  of  all  the  signs  is  the  daily  life  of  the 
people.  Of  this  I  will  only  say,  Israel  has  at  times  forgot 
ten  God,  while  the  Roman  never  knew  him  ;  consequently 
comparison  is  not  possible. 

"  Your  friend — or  your  former  friend — charged,  if  I  un 
derstood  you  rightly,  that  we  have  had  no  poets,  artists,  or 
warriors ;  by  which  he  meant,  I  suppose,  to  deny  that  we 
have  had  great  men,  the  next  most  certain  of  the  signs.  A 
just  consideration  of  this  charge  requires  a  definition  at 
the  commencement.  A  great  man,  O  my  boy,  is  one  whose 
life  proves  him  to  have  been  recognized,  if  not  called,  by 
God.  A  Persian  was  used  to  punish  our  recreant  fathers, 
and  he  carried  them  into  captivity ;  another  Persian  was 
selected  to  restore  their  children  to  the  Holy  Land  ;  greater 
than  either  of  them,  however,  was  the  Macedonian  through 
whom  the  desolation  of  Judea  and  the  Temple  was  avenged. 
The  special  distinction  of  the  men  was  that  they  were 
chosen  by  the  Lord,  each  for  a  divine  purpose ;  and  that 
they  were  Gentiles  does  not  lessen  their  glory.  Do  not 
lose  sight  of  this  definition  while  I  proceed. 

"  There  is  an  idea  that  war  is  the  most  noble  occupation 
of  men,  and  that  the  most  exalted  greatness  is  the  growth, 
of  battle-fields.  Because  the  world  has  adopted  the  idea, 
be  not  you  deceived.  That  we  must  worship  something  is 


BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  109 

a  law  which  will  continue  as  long  as  there  is  anything  we 
cannot  understand.  The  prayer  of  the  barbarian  is  a  wail 
of  fear  addressed  to  Strength,  the  only  divine  quality  he 
can  clearly  conceive ;  hence  his  faith  in  heroes.  What  is 
Jove  but  a  Roman  hero  ?  The  Greeks  have  their  great 
glory  because  they  were  the  first  to  set  Mind  above  Strength. 
In  Athens  the  orator  and  philosopher  were  more  revered 
than  the  warrior.  The  charioteer  and  the  swiftest  runner 
are  still  idols  of  the  arena ;  yet  the  immortelles  are  reserved 
for  the  sweetest  singer.  The  birthplace  of  one  poet  was 
contested  by  seven  cities.  But  was  the  Hellene  the  first  to 
deny  the  old  barbaric  faith  ?  No.  My  son,  that  glory  is 
ours ;  against  brutalism  our  fathers  erected  God ;  in  our 
worship,  the  wail  of  fear  gave  place  to  the  Hosanna  and 
the  Psalm.  So  the  Hebrew  and  the  Greek  would  have 
carried  all  humanity  forward  and  upward.  But,  alas !  the 
government  of  the  world  presumes  war  as  an  eternal  con 
dition  ;  wherefore,  over  Mind  and  above  God,  the  Roman 
has  enthroned  his  Caesar,  the  absorbent  of  all  attainable 
power,  the  prohibition  of  any  other  greatness. 

"  The  sway  of  the  Greek  was  a  flowering  time  for  genius. 
In  return  for  the  liberty  it  then  enjoyed,  what  a  company 
of  thinkers  the  Mind  led  forth  ?  There  was  a  glory  for 
every  excellence,  and  a  perfection  so  absolute  that  in  every 
thing  but  war  even  the  Roman  has  stooped  to  imitation. 
A  Greek  is  now  the  model  of  the  orators  in  the  Forum ; 
listen,  and  in  every  Roman  song  you  will  hear  the  rhythm 
of  the  Greek ;  if  a  Roman  opens  his  mouth  speaking  wise 
ly  of  moralities,  or  abstractions,  or  of  the  mysteries  of  nat 
ure,  he  is  either  a  plagiarist  or  the  disciple  of  some  school 
which  had  a  Greek  for  its  founder.  In  nothing  but  war, 
I  say  again,  has  Rome  a  claim  to  originality.  Her  games 
and  spectacles  are  Greek  inventions,  dashed  with  blood  to 
gratify  the  ferocity  of  her  rabble ;  her  religion,  if  such  it 
may  be  called,  is  made  up  of  contributions  from  the  faiths 
of  all  other  peoples ;  her  most  venerated  gods  are  from 
Olympus — even  her  Mars,  and,  for  that  matter,  the  Jove 
she  much  magnifies.  So  it  happens,  O  my  son,  that  of  the 
whole  world  our  Israel  alone  can  dispute  the  superiority  of 
the  Greek,  and  with  him  contest  the  palm  of  original  genius. 


110  BEN -HUE:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.. 

"  To  the  excellences  of  other  peoples  the  egotism  of  a 
Roman  is  a  blindfold,  impenetrable  as  his  breastplate.  Oh, 
the  ruthless  robbers !  Under  their  trampling  the  earth 
trembles  like  a  floor  beaten  with  flails.  Along  with  the 
rest  we  are  fallen — alas  that  I  should  say  it  to  you,  my 
son  !  They  have  our  highest  places,  and  the  holiest,  and 
the  end  no  man  can  tell ;  but  this  I  know — they  may  re 
duce  Judea  as  an  almond  broken  with  hammers,  and  de 
vour  Jerusalem,  which  is  the  oil  and  sweetness  thereof ; 
yet  the  glory  of  the  men  of  Israel  will  remain  a  light  in 
the  heavens  overhead  out  of  reach  :  for  their  history  is  the 
history  of  God,  who  wrote  with  their  hands,  spake  with 
their  tongues,  and  was  himself  in  all  the  good  they  did, 
even  the  least ;  who  dwelt  with  them,  a  Lawgiver  on  Sinai, 
a  Guide  in  the  Avilderness,  in  war  a  Captain,  in  government 
a  King ;  who  once  and  again  pushed  back  the  curtains  of 
the  pavilion  which  is  his  resting-place,  intolerably  bright, 
and,  as  a  man  speaking  to  men,  showed  them  the  right, 
and  the  way  to  happiness,  and  how  they  should  live,  and 
made  them  promises  binding  the  strength  of  his  Almighti- 
ness  with  covenants  sworn  to  everlastingly.  O  my  son, 
could  it  be  that  they  with  whom  Jehovah  thus  dwelt,  an 
awful  familiar,  derived  nothing  from  him  ? — that  in  their 
lives  and  deeds  the  common  human  qualities  should  not  in 
some  degree  have  been  mixed  and  colored  with  the  divine  ? 
that  their  genius  should  not  have  in  it,  even  after  the  lapse 
of  ages,  some  little  of  heaven  ?" 

For  a  time  the  rustling  of  the  fan  was  all  the  sound 
heard  in  the  chamber. 

"  In  the  sense  which  limits  art  to  sculpture  and  painting, 
it  is  true,"  she  next  said,  "  Israel  has  had  no  artists." 

The  admission  was  made  regretfully,  for  it  must  be  re 
membered  she  was  a  Sadducee,  whose  faith,  unlike  that  of 
the  Pharisees,  permitted  a  love  of  the  beautiful  in  every 
form,  and  without  reference  to  its  origin. 

"  Still  he  who  would  do  justice,"  she  proceeded,  "  wiJl 
not  forget  that  the  cunning  of  our  hands  was  bound  by  the 
prohibition, '  Thou  shalt  not  make  unto  thee  any  graven 
image,  or  any  likeness  of  anything ;'  which  the  Sophe- 
rim  wickedly  extended  beyond  its  purpose  and  time.  Nor 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST.  HI 

should  it  be  forgotten  that  long  before  Daedalus  appeared 
in  Attica  and  with  his  wooden  statues  so  transformed  sculp 
ture  as  to  make  possible  the  schools  of  Corinth  and  .^Egina, 
and  their  ultimate  triumphs  the  Poecile  and  Capitolium — 
long  before  the  age  of  Daedalus,  I  say,  two  Israelites,  Bcza- 
leel  and  Aholiab,  the  master-builders  of  the  first  tabernacle, 
said  to  have  been  skilled  '  in  all  manner  of  workmanship,' 
wrought  the  cherubim  of  the  mercy-seat  above  the  ark.  Of 
gold  beaten,  not  chiselled,  were  they  ;  and  they  were  statues 
in  form  both  human  and  divine.  '  And  they  shall  stretch 
forth  their  wings  on  high,  ....  and  their  faces  shall  look 
one  to  another.'  Who  will  say  they  were  not  beautiful  ? 
or  that  they  were  not  the  first  statues  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  see  now  why  the  Greek  outstripped  us,"  said 
Judah,  intensely  interested.  "  And  the  ark  ;  accursed  be 
the  Babylonians  who  destroyed  it !" 

"  Nay,  Judah,  be  of  faith.  It  was  not  destroyed,  only 
lost,  hidden  away  too  safely  in  some  cavern  of  the  moun 
tains.  One  day — Ilillel  and  Shammai  both  say  so — one 
day,  in  the  Lord's  good  time,  it  will  be  found  and  brought 
forth,  and  Israel  dance  before  it,  singing  as  of  old.  And 
they  who  look  upon  the  faces  of  the  cherubim  then,  though 
they  have  seen  the  face  of  the  ivory  Minerva,  will  be  ready 
to  kiss  the  hand  of  the  Jew  from  love  of  his  genius,  asleep 
through  all  the  thousands  of  years." 

The  mother,  in  her  eagerness,  had  risen  into  something 
like  the  rapidity  and  vehemence  of  a  speech-maker ;  but 
now,  to  recover  herself,  or  to  pick  up  the  thread  of  her 
thought,  she  rested  awhile. 

"  You  are  so  good,  my  mother,"  he  said,  in  a  grateful 
way.  "And  I  will  never  be  done  saying  so.  Shammai 
could  not  have  talked  better,  nor  Ilillel.  •  I  am  a  true  son 
of  Israel  again." 

"  Flatterer !"  she  said.  "  You  do  not  know  that  I 
am  but  repeating  what  I  heard  Ilillel  say  in  an  argu 
ment  he  had  one  day  in  my  presence  with  a  sophist  from 
Rome." 

"  Well,  the  hearty  words  are  yours." 

Directly  all  her  earnestness  returned. 

"  AYhere  was  I  ?    Oh  yes,  I  was  claiming  for  our  Hebrew 


112  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE    OF   THE   CHRIST. 

fathers  the  first  statues.  The  trick  of  the  sculptor,  Judah, 
is  not  all  there  is  of  art,  any  more  than  art  is  all  there  is  of 
greatness.  I  always  think  of  great  men  marching  down 
the  centuries  in  groups  and  goodly  companies,  separable 
according  to  nationalities ;  here  the  Indian,  there  the 
Egyptian,  yonder  the  Assyrian ;  above  them  the  music  of 
trumpets  and  the  beauty  of  banners ;  and  on  their  right 
hand  and  left,  as  reverent  spectators,  the  generations  from 
the  beginning,  numberless.  As  they  go,  I  think  of  the 
Greek,  saying, '  Lo  !  the  Hellene  leads  the  way.'  Then  the 
Roman  replies, '  Silence  !  what  was  your  place  is  ours  now  ; 
we  have  left  you  behind  as  dust  trodden  on.'  And  all  the 
time,  from  the  far  front  back  over  the  line  of  march,  as 
well  as  forward  into  the  farthest  future,  streams  a  light  of 
which  the  wranglers  know  nothing,  except  that  it  is  for 
ever  leading  them  on — the  Light  of  Revelation  !  Who  are 
they  that  carry  it?  Ah,  the  old  Judean  blood!  How  it 
leaps  at  the  thought !  By  the  light  we  know  them.  Thrice 
blessed,  O  our  fathers,  servants  of  God,  keepers  of  the 
covenants !  Ye  are  the  leaders  of  men,  the  living  and  the 
dead.  The  front  is  thine  ;  and  though  every  Roman  were 
a  Caesar,  ye  shall  not  lose  it !" 

Judah  was  deeply  stirred. 

"  Do  not  stop,  I  pray  you,"  he  cried.  "  You  give  me  to 
hear  the  sound  of  timbrels.  I  wait  for  Miriam  and  the 
women  who  went  after  her  dancing  and  singing." 

She  caught  his  feeling,  and,  with  ready  wit,  wove  it  into 
her  speech. 

"  Very  well,  my  son.  If  you  can  hear  the  timbrel  of  the 
prophetess,  you  can  do  what  I  was  about  to  ask ;  you  can 
use  your  fancy,  and  stand  with  me,  as  if  by  the  wayside, 
while  the  chosen  of  Israel  pass  us  at  the  head  of  the  pro 
cession.  Now  they  come — the  patriarchs  first ;  next  the 
fathers  of  the  tribes.  I  almost  hear  the  bells  of  their 
camels  and  the  lowing  of  their  herds.  Who  is  he  that 
walks  alone  between  the  companies  ?  An  old  man,  yet  his 
eye  is  not  dim,  nor  his  natural  force  abated.  He  knew  the 
Lord  face  to  face  !  Warrior,  poet,  orator,  lawgiver,  prophet, 
his  greatness  is  as  the  sun  at  morning,  its  flood  of  splendor 
quenching  all  other  lights,  even  that  of  the  first  and  noblest 


BEN-IIUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CJHRIST.  113 

of  the  Caesars.  After  him  the  judges.  And  then  the  kings 
— the  son  of  Jess^.  a  hero  in  war,  and  a  singer  of  songs 
eternal  as  that  of  the  sea ;  and  his  son,  who,  passing  all 
other  kings  in  riches  and  wisdom,  and  while  making  the 
Desert  habitable,  and  in  its  -vvaste  places  planting  cities, 
forgot  not  Jerusalem  which  the  Lord  had  chosen  for  his 
seat  on  earth.  Bend  lower,  my  son !  These  that  come 
next  are  the  first  of  their  kind,  and  the  last.  Their  faces 
are  raised,  as  if  they  heard  a  voice  in  the  sky  and  were 
listening.  Their  lives  were  full  of  sorrows.  Their  gar 
ments  smell  of  tombs  and  caverns.  Hearken  to  a  woman 
among  them — '  Sing  ye  to  the  Lord,  for  he  hath  triumphed 
gloriously !'  Nay,  put  your  forehead  in  the  dust  before 
them  !  They  were  tongues  of  God,  his  servants,  who  looked 
through  heaven,  and,  seeing  all  the  future,  wrote  what  they 
saw,  and  left  the  writing  to  be  proven  by  time.  Kings 
turned  pale  as  they  approached  them,  and  nations  trembled 
at  the  sound  of  their  voices.  The  elements  waited  upon 
them.  In  their  hands  they  carried  every  bounty  and  every 
plague.  See  the  Tishbite  and  his  servant  Elisha  !  See  the 
sad  son  of  Hilkiah,  and  him,  the  seer  of  visions,  by  the 
river  of  Chebar !  And  of  the  three  children  of  Jndah  who 
refused  the  image  of  the  Babylonian,  lo !  that  one  who,  in 
the  feast  to  the  thousand  lords,  so  confounded  the  astrol 
ogers.  And  yonder — 0  my  son,  kiss  the  dust  again  ! — 
yonder  the  gentle  son  of  Amoz,  from  whom  the  world  has 
its  promise  of  the  Messiah  to  come !" 

In  this  passage  the  fan  had  been  kept  in  rapid  play ;  it 
stopped  now,  and  her  voice  sank  low. 

"  You  are  tired,"  she  said. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  "  I  was  listening  to  a  new  song  of 
Israel." 

The  mother  was  still  intent  upon  her  purpose,  and  passed 
the  pleasant  speech. 

"  In  such  light  as  I  could,  my  Judah,  I  have  set  our 
great  men  before  you — patriarchs,  legislators,  warriors, 
singers,  prophets.  Turn  we  to  the  best  of  Home.  Against 
Moses  place  Ciesar,  and  Tarquin  against  David ;  Sylla 
against  either  of  the  Maccabees ;  the  best  of  the  consuls 
against  the  judges ;  Augustus  against  Solomon,  and  you 
8 


114  BEX-HUK:    A  TALE   OF  TUB   CHRIST. 

arc"  done  :  comparison  ends  there.  But  think  then  of  the 
prophets — greatest  of  the  great." 

She  laughed  scornfully. 

"  Pardon  me.  I  was  thinking  of  the  soothsayer  who 
warned  Caius  Julius  against  the  ides  of  March,  and  fancied 
him  looking  for  the  omens  of  evil  which  his  master  despised 
in  the  entrails  of  a  chicken.  From  that  picture  turn  to 
Elijah  sitting  on  the  hill-top  on  the  way  to  Samaria,  amid 
the  smoking  bodies  of  the  captains  and  their  fifties,  warn 
ing  the  son  of  Ahab  of  the  wrath  of  our  God.  Finally,  O  my 
Judah — if  such  speech  be  reverent — how  shall  we  judge 
Jehovah  and  Jupiter  unless  it  be  by  what  their  servants 
have  done  in  their  names  ?  And  as  for  what  you  shall  do — 

She  spoke  the  latter  words  slowly,  and  with  a  tremulous 
utterance. 

"  As  for  what  you  shall  do,  my  boy — serve  the  Lord,  the 
Lord  God  of  Israel,  not  Rome.  For  a  child  of  Abraham 
there  is  no  glory  except  in  the  Lord's  ways,  and  in  them 
*here  is  much  glory." 

"  I  may  be  a  soldier  then  ?"  Judah  asked. 

"  Why  not  ?     Did  not  Moses  call  God  a  man  of  war  ?" 

There  was  then  a  long  silence  in  the  summer  chamber. 

"  You  have  my  permission,"  she  said,  finally ;  "  if  only 
you  serve  the  Lord  instead  of  Caesar." 

He  was  content  with  the  condition,  and  by-and-by  fell 
asleep.  She  arose  then,  and  put  the  cushion  under  his 
head,  and,  throwing  a  shawl  over  him  and  kissing  him 
tenderly,  went  away. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  good  man,  like  the  bad,  must  die  ;  but,  remember 
ing  the  lesson  of  our  faith,  we  say  of  him  and  the  event, 
"  Xo  matter,  he  will  open  his  eyes  in  heaven."  Nearest 
this  in  life  is  the  waking  from  healthful  sleep  to  a  quick 
consciousness  of  happy  sights  and  sounds. 

When  Judah  awoke,  the  sun  was  up  over  the  mountains  ; 
the  pigeons  were  abroad  in  flocks,  filling  the  air  with  the 
gleams  of  their  white  wings ;  and  off  southeast  he  beheld 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  115 

the  Temple,  an  apparition  of  gold  in  the  blue  of  the  sky. 
These,  however,  were  familiar  objects,  and  they  received  but 
a  glance  ;  upon  the  edge  of  the  divan,  close  by  him,  a  girl 
scarcely  fifteen  sat  singing  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  ncbel, 
which  she  rested  upon  her  knee,  and  touched  gracefully. 
To  her  he  turned  listening ;  and  this  was  what  she  sang : 

THE  SONG. 

"  Wake  not,  but  hear  me,  love ! 
Adrift,  adrift  on  slumber's  sea, 
Thy  spirit  call  to  list  to  me. 
Wake  not,  but  hear  me,  love ! 

A  gift  from  Sleep,  the  restful  king, 
All  happy,  happy  dreams  I  bring. 

"  Wake  not,  but  hear  me,  love ! 

Of  all  the  world  of  dreams  'tis  thine 
This  once  to  choose  the  most  divine. 
So  choose,  and  sleep,  my  love ! 
But  ne'er  again  in  choice  be  free, 
Unless,  unless — thou  dream'st  of  me." 

She  put  the  instrument  down,  and,  resting  her  hands  in 
her  lap,  waited  for  him  to  speak.  And  as  it  has  become 
necessary  to  tell  somewhat  of  her,  we  will  avail  ourselves 
of  the  chance,  and  add  such  particulars  of  the  family  into 
whose  privacy  we  are  brought  as  the  reader  may  wish  to 
know. 

The  favors  of  Herod  had  left  surviving  him  many  persons 
of  vast  estate.  Where  this  fortune  was  joined  to  undoubted 
lineal  descent  from  some  famous  son  of  one  of  the  tribes, 
especially  Judah,  the  happy  individual  was  accounted  a 
Prince  of  Jerusalem — a  distinction  which  sufficed  to  bring 
him  the  homage  of  his  less  favored  countrymen,  and  the 
respect,  if  nothing  more,  of  the  Gentiles  with  whom  business 
and  social  circumstance  brought  him  into  dealing.  Of  this 
class  none  had  won  in  private  or  public  life  a  higher  regard 
than  the  father  of  the  lad  whom  we  have  been  following. 
With  a  remembrance  of  his  nationality  which  never  failed 
him,  he  had  yet  been  true  to  the  king,  and  served  him  faith 
fully  at  home  and  abroad.  Some  offices  had  taken  him  to 
Rome,  where  his  conduct  attracted  the  notice  of  Augustus, 
who  strove  without  reserve  to  engage  his  friendship.  In  his 


U6  BENHUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

house,  accordingly ,were  many  presents,  such  as  had  gratified 
the  vanity  of  kings — purple  togas,  ivory  chairs,  golden  pa- 
tcrce — chiefly  valuable  on  account  of  the  imperial  hand 
which  had  honorably  conferred  them.  Such  a  man  could 
not  fail  to  be  rich ;  yet  his  wealth  was  not  altogether  the 
largess  of  royal  patrons.  He  had  welcomed  the  law  that 
bound  him  to  some  pursuit ;  and,  instead  of  one,  he  entered 
into  many.  Of  the  herdsmen  watching  flocks  on  the  plains 
and  hill-sides,  far  as  old  Lebanon,  numbers  reported  to  him 
as  their  employer ;  in  the  cities  by  the  sea,  and  in  those 
inland,  he  founded  houses  of  traffic  ;  his  ships  brought  him 
silver  from  Spain,  whose  mines  were  then  the  richest  known ; 
while  his  caravans  came  twice  a  year  from  the  East,  laden 
with  silks  and  spices.  In  faith  he  was  a  Hebrew,  observant 
of  the  law  and  every  essential  rite  ;  his  place  in  the  syn 
agogue  and  Temple  knew  him  well ;  he  was  thoroughly 
learned  in  the  Scriptures  ;  he  delighted  in  the  society  of  the 
college-masters,  and  carried  his  reverence  for  Hillel  almost 
to  the  point  of  worship.  Yet  he  was  in  no  sense  a  Sepa 
ratist  ;  his  hospitality  took  in  strangers  from  every  land ; 
the  carping  Pharisees  even  accused  him  of  having  more 
than  once  entertained  Samaritans  at  his  table.  Had  he 
been  a  Gentile,  and  lived,  the  world  might  have  heard  of 
him  as  the  rival  of  Herodes  Atticus :  as  it  was,  he  perished 
at  sea  some  ten  years  before  this  second  period  of  our  story, 
in  the  prime  of  life,  and  lamented  everywhere  in  Judca. 
We  are  already  acquainted  with  two  members  of  his  family 
— his  widow  and  son  ;  the  only  other  was  a  daughter — she 
whom  we  have  seen  singing  to  her  brother. 

Tirzah  was  her  name,  and  as  the  two  looked  at  each 
other,  their  resemblance  was  plain.  Her  features  had  the 
regularity  of  his,  and  were  of  the  same  Jewish  type ;  they 
had  also  the  charm  of  childish  innocency  of  expression. 
Home-life  and  its  trustful  love  permitted  the  negligent  at 
tire  in  which  she  appeared.  A  chemise  buttoned  upon  the 
right  shoulder,  and  passing  loosely  over  the  breast  and  back 
and  under  the  left  arm,  but  half  concealed  her  person  above 
the  waist,  while  it  left  the  arms  entirely  nude.  A  girdle 
caught  the  folds  of  the  garment,  marking  the  commencement 
of  the  skirt.  The  coiffure  was  very  simple  and  becoming 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  117 

— a  silken  cap,  Tyrian-dyed ;  and  over  that  a  striped  scarf 
of  the  same  material,  beautifully  embroidered,  and  wound 
about  in  thin  folds  so  as  to  show  the  shape  of  the  head 
without  enlarging  it;  the  whole  finished  by  a  tassel  drop 
ping  from  the  crown  point  of  the  cap.  She  had  rings,  ear 
and  finger ;  anklets  and  bracelets,  all  of  gold ;  and  around 
her  neck  there  was  a  collar  of  gold,  curiously  garnished  with 
a  network  of  delicate  chains,  to  which  were  pendants  of 
pearl.  The  edges  of  her  eyelids  were  painted,  and  the 
tips  of  her  fingers  stained.  Her  hair  fell  in  two  long  plaits 
down  her  back.  A  curled  lock  rested  upon  each  cheek  in 
front  of  the  ear.  Altogether  it  would  have  been  impossi 
ble  to  deny  her  grace,  refinement,  and  beauty. 

"  Very  pretty,  my  Tirzah,  very  pretty !"  he  said,  with 
animation. 

"  The  song  ?"  she  asked. 

"Yes  —  and  the  singer,  too.  It  has  the  conceit  of  a 
Greek.  Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"  You  remember  the  Greek  who  sang  in  the  theatre  last 
month  ?  They  said  he  used  to  be  a  singer  at  the  court  for 
Herod  and  his  sister  Salome.  He  came  out  just  after  an 
exhibition  of  wrestlers,  when  the  house  was  full  of  noise. 
At  his  first  note  everything  became  so  quiet  that  I  heard 
every  word.  I  got  the  song  from  him." 

"  But  he  sang  in  Greek." 

"  And  I  in  Hebrew." 

"  Ah,  yes.  I  am  proud  of  my  little  sister.  Have  you 
another  as  good?" 

"  Very  many.  But  let  them  go  now.  Amrah  sent  me 
to  tell  you  she  will  bring  you  your  breakfast,  and  that  you 
need  not  come  down.  She  should  be  here  by  this  time. 
She  thinks  you  sick — that  a  dreadful  accident  happened 
you  yesterday.  What  was  it  ?  Tell  me,  and  I  will  help 
Amrah  doctor  you.  She  knows  the  cures  of  the  Egyptians, 
who  were  always  a  stupid  set ;  but  I  have  a  great  many 
recipes  of  the  Arabs  who — " 

"  Are  even  more  stupid  than  the  Egyptians,"  he  said, 
shaking  his  head. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  Very  well,  then,"  she  replied,  al 
most  without  pause,  and  putting  her  hands  to  her  left  ear. 


118  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  Wo  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  of  them.  I  have 
here  what  is  much  surer  and  better — the  amulet  which  w?.s 
given  to  some  of  our  people — I  cannot  tell  when,  it  was  so 
far  back — by  a  Persian  magician.  See,  the  inscription  is 
almost  worn  out." 

She  offered  him  the  earring,  which  he  took,  looked  at, 
and  handed  back,  laughing. 

"  If  I  ^sTere  dying,  Tirzah,  I  could  not  use  the  charm.  It 
is  a  relic  of  idolatry,  forbidden  every  believing  son  and 
daughter  of  Abraham.  Take  it,  but  do  not  wear  it  any 
more." 

"  Forbidden  !  Not  so,"  she  said.  "  Our  father's  mother 
wore  it  I  do  not  know  how  many  Sabbaths  in  her  life.  It 
has  cured  I  do  not  know  how  many  people — more  than 
three  anyhow.  It  is  approved — look,  here  is  the  mark  of 
the  rabbis." 

''  I  have  no  faith  in  amulets." 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his  in  astonishment. 

"  What  would  Amrah  say  ?" 

"  Amrah's  father  and  mother  tended  sakiyeh  for  a  garden 
on  the  Nile." 

"  But  Gamaliel !" 

"  He  says  they  are  godless  inventions  of  unbelievers  and 
Shechemites." 

Tirzeh  looked  at  the  ring  doubtfully. 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  it  ?" 

"  Wear  it,  my  little  sister.  It  becomes  you — it  helps 
make  you  beautiful,  though  I  think  you  that  without 
help."  ' 

Satisfied,  she  returned  the  amulet  to  her  ear  just  as  Am 
rah  entered  the  summer  chamber,  bearing  a  platter,  with 
wash-bowl,  water,  and  napkins. 

Not  being  a  Pharisee,  the  ablution  was  short  and  simple 
with  Judah.  The  servant  then  went  out,  leaving. Tirzah  to 
dress  his  hair.  When  a  lock  was  disposed  to  her  satisfac 
tion,  she  would  unloose  the  small  metallic  mirrcr  which,  as 
was  the  fashion  among  her  fair  countrywomen,  she  wore  at 
her  girdle,  and  gave  it  to  him,  that  he  might  see  the  tri 
umph,  and  how  handsome  it  made  him.  Meanwhile  they 
kept  up  their  conversation. 


BEX-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST.  119 

"  What  do  you  think,  Tirzah  ? — I  am  going  away." 

She  dropped  her  hands  with  amazement. 

"  Going  away  !     "When  ?     Where  1     For  what  ?" 

He  laughed. 

"  Three  questions,  all  in  a  breath  !  What  a  body  you 
are  !"  Next  instant  he  became  serious.  "  You  know  the 
law  requires  me  to  follow  some  occupation.  Our  good 
father  set  me  an  example.  Even  you  would  despise  me  if 
I  spent  in  idleness  the  results  of  his  industry  and  knowl 
edge.  I  am  going  to  Rome." 

"  Oh,  I  will  go  with  you." 

"  You  must  stay  with  mother.  If  both  of  us  leave  her 
she  will  die." 

The  brightness  faded  from  her  face. 

"  Ah,  yes,  yes  I  But — must  you  go  ?  Here  in  Jerusalem 
you  can  learn  all  that  is  needed  to  be  a  merchant — if  that 
is  what  you  are  thinking  of." 

"  But  that  is  not  what  I  am  thinking  of.  The  law  does 
not  require  the  son  to  be  what  the  father  was." 

"  What  else  can  you  be  ?" 

"  A  soldier,"  he  replied,  with  a  certain  pride  of  voice. 

Tears  came  into  her  eyes. 

"  You  will  be  killed." 

"  If  God's  will,  be  it  so.  But,  Tirzah,  the  soldiers  are 
not  all  killed." 

She  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck,  as  if  to  hold  him 
back. 

"  We  are  so  happy  !     Stay  at  home,  my  brother." 

"  Home  cannot  always  be  what  it  is.  You  yourself  will 
be  going  away  before  long." 

"Never!" 

He  smiled  at  her  earnestness. 

"  A  prince  of  Judah,  or  some  other  of  one  of  the  tribes, 
will  come  soon  and  claim  my  Tirzah,  and  ride  away  with 
her,  to  be  the  light  of  another  house.  What  will  then  be 
come  of  me  ?" 

She  answered  with  sobs. 

"  War  is  a  trade,"  he  continued,  more  soberly.  •'  To 
learn  it  thoroughly,  one  must  go  to  school,  and  there  is  no 
school  like  a  Roman  camp." 


120  BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  You  would  not  fight  for  Rome  ?"  she  asked,  holding 
her  breath. 

"  And  you — even  you  hate  her.  The  whole  world  hates 
her.  In  that,  O  Tirzah,  find  the  reason  of  the  answer  I  give 
you —  Yes,  I  will  fight  for  her,  if,  in  return,  she  will  teach 
me  how  one  day  to  tight  against  her." 

"  When  will  you  go  ?" 

Amrah's  steps  were  then  heard  returning. 

"  Hist !"  he  said.  "  Do  not  let  her  know  of  what  I  am 
thinking." 

The  faithful  slave  came  in  with  breakfast,  and  placed 
the  waiter  holding  it  upon  a  stool  before  them ;  then,  with 
white  napkins  upon  her  arm,  she  remained  to  serve  them. 
They  dipped  their  fingers  in  a  bowl  of  water,  and  were  rins 
ing  them,  when  a  noise  arrested  their  attention.  They 
listened,  and  distinguished  martial  music  in  the  street  on 
the  north  side  of  the  house. 

"  Soldiers  from  the  Pnetoriuni !  I  must  see  them,"  he 
cried,  springing  from  the  divan,  and  running  out. 

In  a  moment  more  he  was  leaning  over  the  parapet  of 
tiles  which  guarded  the  roof  at  the  extreme  northeast  cor 
ner,  so  absorbed  that  he  did  not  notice  Tirzah  by  his  side, 
resting  one  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

Their  position — the  roof  being  the  highest  one  in  the 
locality — commanded  the  house-tops  eastward  as  far  as  the 
huge  irregular  Tower  of  Antonia,  which  has  been  already 
mentioned  as  a  citadel  for  the  garrison  and  military  head 
quarters  for  the  governor.  The  street,  not  more  than  ten 
feet  wide,  was  spanned  here  and  there  by  bridges,  open  and 
covered,  which,  like  the  roofs  along  the  way,  were  begin 
ning  to  be  occupied  by  men,  women,  and  children,  called 
out  by  the  music.  The  word  is  used,  though  it  is  hardly' 
fitting ;  what  the  people  heard  when  they  came  forth  was 
rather  an  uproar  of  trumpets  and  the  shriller  litui  so  de 
lightful  to  the  soldiers. 

The  array  sifter  a  while  came  into  view  of  the  two  upon 
the  house  of  the  llurs.  First,  a  vanguard  of  the  light- 
armed — mostly  slingers  and  bowmen — marching  with  wide 
intervals  between  their  ranks  and  files;  next  a  body  of 
heavy-armed  infantry,  bearing  large  shields,  and  hastce 


BEN-IIUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  121 

longw,  or  spears  identical  with  those  used  in  the  duels  be 
fore  Ilium  ;  then  the  musicians  ;  and  then  an  officer  riding 
alone,  but  followed  closely  by  a  guard  of  cavalry ;  after 
them  again,  a  column  of  infantry  also  heavy-armed,  which, 
moving  in  close  order,  crowded  the  street  from  wall  to 
Avail,  and  appeared  to  be  without  end. 

The  brawny  limbs  of  the  men ;  the  cadenced  motion 
from  right  to  left  of  the  shields ;  the  sparkle  of  scales, 
buckles,  and  breastplates  and  helms,  all  perfectly  burnished ; 
the  plumes  nodding  above  the  tall  crests ;  the  sway  of  en 
signs  and  iron-shod  spears ;  the  bold,  confident  step,  exact 
ly  timed  and  measured ;  the  demeanor,  so  grave,  yet  so 
watchful ;  the  machine-like  unity  of  the  whole  moving  mass 
— made  an  impression  upon  Judah,  but  as  something  felt 
rather  than  seen.  Two  objects  fixed  his  attention — the 
eagle  of  the  legion  first — a  gilded  effigy  perched  on  a  tall 
shaft,  Avith  wings  outspread  until  they  met  above  its  head. 
He  knew  that,  Avhen  brought  from  its  chamber  in  the  Tow 
er,  it  had  been  received  with  divine  honors. 

The  officer  riding  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  column  was 
the  other  attraction.  His  head  Avas  bare ;  otherwise  he 
Avas  in  full  armor.  At  his  left  hip  he  Avore  a  short  SAvord ; 
in  his  hand,  however,  he  carried  a  truncheon,  which  looked 
like  a  roll  of  Avhite  paper.  He  sat  upon  a  purple  cloth  in 
stead  of  a  saddle,  and  that,  and  a  bridle  with  a  forestall  of 
gold  and  reins  of  yellow  silk  broadly  fringed  at  the  lower 
edge,  completed  the  housings  of  the  horse. 

While  the  man  was  yet  in  the  distance,  Judah  observed 
that  his  presence  was  sufficient  to  throAV  the  people  looking 
at  him  into  angry  excitement.  They  Avould  lean  over  the 
parapets  or  stand  boldly  out,  and  shake  their  fists  at  him  ; 
they  followed  him  with  loud  cries,  and  spit  at  him  as  he 
passed  under  the  bridges  ;  the  Avoinen  even  flung  their  san 
dals,  sometimes  with  such  good  effect  as  to  hit  him.  When 
he  was  nearer,  the  yells  became  distinguishable — "  Robber, 
tyrant,  dog  of  a  Roman  !  AAvay  Avith  Ishmael !  Give  us 
back  our  Hannas !" 

When  quite  near,  Judah  could  see  that,  as  Avas  but  nat 
ural,  the  man  did  not  share  the  indifference  so  superbly 
shown  by  the  soldiers ;  his  face  was  dark  and  sullen,  and 


122  BEN-IIUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

the  glances  he  occasionally  cast  at  liis  persecutors  were 
full  of  menace  ;  the  very  timid  shrank  from  them. 

Now  the  lad  had  heard  of  the  custom,  borrowed  from  a 
habit  of  the  first  Ciesar,  by  which  chief  commanders,  to  in 
dicate  their  rank,  appeared  in  public  with  only  a  laurel  vine 
upon  their  heads.  By  that  sign  he  knew  this  officer — 
VALERIUS  GRATUS,  THE  NEW  PROCURATOR  OF  JUUEA  ! 

To  say  truth  now,  the  Roman  under  the  unprovoked 
storm  had  the  young  Jew's  sympathy ;  so  that  when  he 
reached  the  corner  of  the  house,  the  latter  leaned  yet  far 
ther  over  the  parapet  to  see  him  go  by,  and  in  the  act 
rested  a  hand  upon  a  tile  which  had  been  a  long  time  cracked 
and  allowed  to  go  unnoticed.  The  pressure  was  strong 
enough  to  displace  the  outer  piece,  which  started  to  fall. 
A  thrill  of  horror  shot  through  the  youth.  He  reached 
out  to  catch  the  missile.  In  appearance  the  motion  was 
exactly  that  of  one  pitching  something  from  him.  The 
effort  failed — nay,  it  served  to  push  the  descending  frag 
ment  farther  out  over  the  wall.  He  shouted  with  all  his 
might.  The  soldiers  of  the  guard  looked  up ;  so  did  the 
great  man,  and  that  moment  the  missile  struck  him,  and  he 
fell  from  his  seat  as  dead. 

The  cohort  halted  ;  the  guards  leaped  from  their  horses, 
and  hastened  to  cover  the  chief  with  their  shields.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  people  who  witnessed  the  affair,  never 
doubting  that  the  blow  had  been  purposely  dealt,  cheered 
the  lad  as  he  yet  stooped  in  full  view  over  the  parapet, 
transfixed  by  what  he  beheld,  and  by  anticipation  of  the 
consequences  flashed  all  too  plainly  upon  him. 

A  mischievous  spirit  flew  with  incredible  speed  from 
roof  to  roof  along  the  line  of  march,  seizing  the  people, 
and  urging  them  all  alike.  They  laid  hands  upon  the  par 
apets  and  tore  up  the  tiling  and  the  sunburnt  mud  of  which 
the  housetops  were  for  the  most  part  made,  and  with  blind 
fury  began  to  fling  them  upon  the  legionaries  halted  be 
low.  A  battle  then  ensued.  Discipline,  of  course,  pre 
vailed.  The  struggle,  the  slaughter,  the  skill  of  one  side, 
the  desperation  of  the  other,  are  alike  unnecessary  to  our 
story.  Let  us  look  rather  to  the  wretched  author  of  it  all. 

He  arose  from  the  parapet,  his  face  very  pale. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST.  123 

"  0  Tirzah,  Tirzah  !     What  will  become  of  us  ?" 

She  had  not  seen  the  occurrence  below,  but  was  listen 
ing  to  the  shouting  and  watching  the  mad  activity  of  the 
people  in  view  on  the  houses.  Something  terrible  was  go 
ing  on,  she  knew  ;  but  what  it  was,  or  the  cause,  or  that  she 
or  any  of  those  dear  to  her  were  in  danger,  she  did  not  know. 

"What  has  happened?  What  does  it  all  mean?"  she 
asked,  in  sudden  alarm. 

"  I  have  killed  the  Roman  governor.  The  tile  fell  upon 
him." 

An  unseen  hand  appeared  to  sprinkle  her  face  with  the 
dust  of  ashes — it  grew  white  so  instantly.  She  put  her 
arm  around  him,  and  looked  wistfully,  but  without  a  word, 
into  his  eyes.  His  fears  had  passed  to  her,  and  the  sight 
of  them  gave  him  strength. 

"  I  did  not  do  it  purposely,  Tirzah — it  was  an  accident," 
he  said,  more  calmly. 

"  What  will  they  do  ?"  she  asked. 

lie  looked  off  Over  the  tumult  momentarily  deepening 
in  the  street  and  on  the  roofs,  and  thought  of  the  sullen 
countenance  of  Gratus.  If  he  were  not  dead,  where  would 
his  vengeance  stop  ?  And  if  he  were  dead,  to  what  height 
of  fury  would  not  the  violence  of  the  people  lash  the 
legionaries  ?  To  evade  an  answer,  he  peered  over  the  para 
pet  again,  just  as  the  guard  were  assisting  the  Roman  to 
remount  his  horse. 

"  He  lives,  he  lives,  Tirzah  !  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God 
of  our  fathers !" 

With  that  outcry,  and  a  brightened  countenance,  he  drew 
back  and  replied  to  her  question. 

"  Be  not  afraid,  Tirzah.  I  will  explain  how  it  happened, 
and  they  will  remember  our  father  and  his  services,  and 
not  hurt  us." 

He  was  leading  her  to  the  summer-house,  when  the  roof 
jarred  under  their  feet,  and  a  crash  of  strong  timbers  be 
ing  burst  away,  followed  by  a  cry  of  surprise  and  agony, 
arose  apparently  from  the  court-yard  below.  lie  stopped 
and  listened.  The  cry  was  repeated  ;  then  came  a  rush  of 
many  feet,  and  voices  lifted  in  rage  blent  with  voices  in 
prayer ;  and  then  the  screams  of  women  in  mortal  terror. 


124  BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

The  soldiers  had  beaten  in  the  north  gate,  and  were  in  pos 
session  of  the  house.  The  terrible  sense  of  being  hunted 
smote  him.  His  first  impulse  was  to  fly ;  but  where  ? 
Nothing  but  wings  would  serve  him.  Tirzah,  her  eyes 
wild  with  fear,  caught  his  arm. 

"  O  Judah,  what  does  it  mean  ?" 

The  servants  were  being  butchered — and  his  mother ! 
Was  not  one  of  the  voices  he  heard  hers?  With  all  the 
will  left  him,  he  said,  Stay  here,  and  wait  for  me,  Tirzah. 
I  will  go  down  and  see  what  is  the  matter,  and  come  back 
to  you." 

His  voice  was  not  steady  as  he  wished.  She  clung  closer 
to  him. 

Clearer,  shriller,  no  longer  a  fancy,  his  mother's  cry  arose. 
He  hesitated  no  longer. 

"  Come,  then,  let  us  go." 

The  terrace  or  gallery  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  was 
crowded  with  soldiers.  Other  soldiers  with  drawn  swords 
ran  in  and  out  of  the  chambers.  At  one  place  a  number 
of  women  on  their  knees  clung  to  each  other  or  prayed  for 
mercy.  Apart  from  them,  one  with  torn  garments,  and 
long  hair  streaming  over  her  face,  struggled  to  tear  loose 
from  a  man  all  whose  strength  was  tasked  to  keep  his 
hold.  Her  cries  were  shrillest  of  all ;  cutting  through  the 
clamor,  they  had  risen  distinguishably  to  the  roof.  To  her 
Judah  sprang — his  steps  were  long  and  swift,  almost  a 
winged  flight  —  "Mother,  mother!"  he  shouted.  She 
stretched  her  hands  towards  him  ;  but  when  almost  touch 
ing  them  he  was  seized  and  forced  aside.  Then  he  heard 
some  one  say,  speaking  loudly. 

"  That  is  he  !" 

Judah  looked,  and  saw — Messala. 

"  What,  the  assassin — that  ?"  said  a  tall  man,  in  legionary 
armor  of  beautiful  finish.  "  Why,  he  is  but  a  boy." 

"Gods!"  replied  Messala,  not  forgetting  his  drawl.  "A 
new  philosophy  !  What  would  Seneca  say  to  the  proposi 
tion  that  a  man  must  be  old  before  he  can  hate  enough  to 
kill  ?  You  have  him  ;  and  that  is  his  mother ;  yonder  his 
sister.  You  have  the  whole  family." 

For  love  of  them,  Judah  forgot  his  quarrel. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  125 

"  Help  them,  O  my  Messala  !  Remember  our  childhood 
and  help  them.  I — Judah — pray  you." 

Messala  affected  not  to  hear. 

"  I  cannot  be  of  further  use  to  you,"  lie  said  to  the  of 
ficer.  "  There  is  richer  entertainment  in  the  street.  Down 
Eros,  up  Mars !" 

With  the  last  words  he  disappeared.  Judah  under 
stood  him,  and,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  prayed  to 
Heaven. 

"  In  the  hour  of  thy  vengeance,  0  Lord,"  he  said,  "  be 
mine  the  hand  to  put  it  upon  him !" 

By  great  exertion,  he  drew  nearer  the  officer. 

"  O  sir,  the  woman  you  hear  is  my  mother.  Spare  her, 
spare  my  sister  yonder.  God  is  just,  he  will  give  you 
mercy  for  mercy." 

The  man  appeared  to  be  moved. 

"  To  the  Tower  with  the  women  !"  he  shouted,  "  but  do 
them  no  harm.  I  will  demand  them  of  you."  Then  to 
those  holding  Judah,  he  said,  "  Get  cords,  and  bind  his 
hands,  and  take  him  to  the  street.  His  punishment  is  re 
served." 

The  mother  was  carried  away.  The  little  Tirzah,  in  her 
home  attire,  stupefied  with  fear,  Avent  passively  with  her 
keepers.  Judah  gave  each  of  them  a  last  look,  and  covered 
his  face  with  his  hands,  as  if  to  possess  himself  of  the  scene 
fadelessly.  He  may  have  shed  tears,  though  no  one  saw 
them. 

There  took  place  in  him  then  what  may  be  justly  called 
the  wonder  of  life.  The  thoughtful  reader  of  these  pages 
has  ere  this  discerned  enough  to  know  that  the  young  Jew 
in  disposition  was  gentle  even  to  womanliness — a  result 
that  seldom  fails  the  habit  of  loving  and  being  loved.  The 
circumstances  through  which  he  had  come  had  made  no 
call  upon  the  harsher  elements  of  his  nature,  if  such  he  had. 
At  times  he  had  felt  the  stir  and  impulses  of  ambition,  but 
they  had  been  like  the  formless  dreams  of  a  child  walking 
by  the  sea  and  gazing  at  the  coming  and  going  of  stately 
ships.  But  now,  if  we  can  imagine  an  idol,  sensible  of  the 
worship  it  was  accustomed  to,  dashed  suddenly  from  its 
altar,  and  lying  amidst  the  wreck  of  its  little  world  of  love, 


126  BEN-HUB:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CIIRIST. 

an  idea  may  be  had  of  what  had  befallen  the  young  Ben- 
Hur,  and  of  its  effect  upon  his  being.  Yet  there  was  no 
sign,  nothing  to  indicate  that  he  had  undergone  a  change, 
except  that  when  he  raised  his  head,  and  held  his  arms  out 
to  be  bound,  the  bend  of  the  Cupid's  bow  had  vanished 
from  his  lips.  In  that  instant  he  had  put  off  childhood 
and  become  a  man. 

A  trumpet  sounded  in  the  court-yard.  AVith  the  cessa 
tion  of  the  call,  the  gallery  was  cleared  of  the  soldiery ; 
many  of  whom,  as  they  dared  not  appear  in  the  ranks  with 
visible  plunder  in  their  hands,  flung  what  they  had  upon 
the  floor,  until  it  was  strewn  with  articles  of  richest  virtu. 
When  Judah  descended,  the  formation  was  complete,  and 
the  officer  waiting  to  see  his  last  order  executed. 

The  mother,  daughter,  and  entire  household  were  led  out 
of  the  north  gate,  the  rums  of  which  choked  the  passage 
way.  The  cries  of  the  domestics,  some  of  whom  had  been 
born  in  the  house,  were  most  pitiable.  When,  finally,  the 
horses  and  all  the  dumb  tenantry  of  the  place  were  driven 
past  him,  Judah  began  to  comprehend  the  scope  of  the 
procurator's  vengeance.  The  very  structure  was  devoted. 
Far  as  the  order  was  possible  of  execution,  nothing  living 
was  to  be  left  within  its  walls.  If  in  Judea  there  were 
others  desperate  enough  to  think  of  assassinating  a  Roman 
governor,  the  story  of  what  befell  the  princely  family  of 
Hur  would  be  a  warning  to  them,  while  the  ruin  of  the 
habitation  would  keep  the  story  alive. 

The  officer  waited  outside  while  a  detail  of  men  tempo 
rarily  restored  the  gate. 

In  the  street  the  fighting  had  almost  ceased.  Upon  the 
houses  here  and  there  clouds  of  dust  told  where  the  strug 
gle  was  yet  prolonged.  The  cohort  was,  for  the  most  part, 
standing  at  rest,  its  splendor,  like  its  ranks,  in  nowise  di 
minished.  Borne  past  the  point  of  care  for  himself,  Judah 
had  heart  for  nothing  in  view  but  the  prisoners,  among 
whom  he  looked  in  vain  for  his  mother  and  Tirzah. 

Suddenly,  from  the  earth  where  she  had  been  lying,  a 
woman  arose  and  started  swiftly  back  to  the  gate.  Some 
of  the  guards  reached  out  to  seize  'her,  and  a  great  shout 
followed  their  failure.  She  ran  to  Judah,  and,  dropping 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CURIST.  127 

down,  clasped  his  knees,  the  coarse  black  hair  powdered 
with  dust  veiling  her  eyes. 

"  O  Am  rah,  good  Amrah,"  he  said  to  her,  "  God  help 
you ;  I  cannot." 

She  could  not  speak. 

He  bent  down,  and  whispered,  "  Live,  Amrah,  for  Tirzah 
and  my  mother.  They  will  come  back,  and — " 

A  soldier  drew  her  away  ;  whereupon  she  sprang  up  and 
rushed  through  the  gateway  and  passage  into  the  vacant 
court-yard. 

"  Let  her  go,"  the  officer  shouted.  "  "We  will  seal  the 
house,  and  she  will  starve." 

The  men  resumed  their  work,  and,  when  it  was  finished 
there,  passed  round  to  the  west  side.  That  gate  was  also 
secured,  after  which  the  palace  of  the  Hurs  was  lost  to  use. 

The  cohort  at  length  marched  back  to  the  Tower,  where 
the  procurator  stayed  to  recover  from  his  hurts  and  dis 
pose  of  his  prisoners.  On  the  tenth  day  following,  he 
visited  the  Market-place. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

NEXT  day  a  detachment  of  legionaries  went  to  the  desolat 
ed  palace,  and,  closing  the  gates  permanently,  plastered  the 
corners  with  wax,  and  at  the  sides  nailed  a  notice  in  Latin  : 

"  THIS  is  THE  PROPERTY  OP 
TIIE   EMPEROR." 

In  the  haughty  Roman  idea,  the  sententious  announce 
ment  was  thought  sufficient  for  the  purpose — and  it  was. 

The  day  after  that  again,  about  noon,  a  decurion  with 
his  command  of  ten  horsemen  approached  Nazareth  from 
the  south — that  is,  from  the  direction  of  Jerusalem.  The 
place  was  then  a  straggling  village,  perched  on  a  hill-side, 
and  so  insignificant  that  its  one  street  was  little  more  than 
a  path  well  beaten  by  the  coming  and  going  of  flocks  and 
herds.  The  great  plain  of  Esdraelon  crept  close  to  it  on 
the  south,  and  from  the  height  on  the  west  a  view  could  be 
had  of  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  the  region  beyond 
the  Jordan,  and  Hcrmon.  The  valley  below,  and  the  coun- 


128  BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

try  on  every  side,  were  given  to  gardens,  vineyards,  orchards, 
and  pasturage.  Groves  of  palm-trees  Orientalized  the  land 
scape.  The  houses,  in  irregular  assemblage,  were  of  the 
humbler  class — square,  one-story,  flat-roofed,  and  covered 
with  bright-green  vines.  The  drought  that  had  burned 
the  hills  of  Judea  to  a  crisp,  brown  and  lifeless,  stopped  at1' 
the  boundary -line  of  Galilee. 

A  trumpet,  sounded  when  the  cavalcade  drew  near  the 
village,  had  a  magical  effect  upon  the  inhabitants.  The 
gates  and  front  doors  cast  forth  groups  eager  to  be  the  first 
to  catch  the  meaning  of  a  visitation  so  unusual. 

Nazareth,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  not  only  aside 
from  any  great  highway,  but  within  the  sway  of  Judas  of 
Gamala;  wherefore  it  should  not  be  hard  to  imagine  the 
feelings  with  which  the  legionaries  were  received.  But 
when  they  were  up  and  traversing  the  street,  the  duty  that 
occupied  them  became  apparent,  and  then  fear  and  hatred 
were  lost  in  curiosity,  under  the  impulse  of  which  the  peo 
ple,  knowing  there  must  be  a  halt  at  the  well  in  the  north 
eastern  part  of  the  town,  quit  their  gates  and  doors,  and 
closed  in  after  the  procession. 

A  prisoner  whom  the  horsemen  were  guarding  was  the 
object  of  curiosity.  He  was  afoot,  bareheaded,  half  naked, 
his  hands  bound  behind  him.  A  thong  fixed  to  his  wrists 
was  looped  over  the  neck  of  a  horse.  The  dust  went  with 
the  party  when  in  movement,  wrapping  him  in  yellow  fog, 
sometimes  in  a  dense  cloud.  He  dropped  forward,  foot 
sore  and  faint.  The  villagers  could  see  he  was  young. 

At  the  well  the  decurion  halted,  and,  with  most  of  the 
men,  dismounted.  The  prisoner  sank  down  in  the  dust  of 
the  road,  stupefied,  and  asking  nothing :  apparently  he  was 
in  the  last  stage  of  exhaustion.  Seeing,  when  they  came 
near,  that  he  was  but  a  boy,  the  villagers  would  have  helped 
him  had  they  dared. 

In  the  midst  of  their  perplexity,  and  while  the  pitchers 
were  passing  among  the  soldiers,  a  man  was  descried  coin 
ing  down  the  road  from  Sepphoris.  At  sight  of  him  a 
woman  cried  out,  "  Look  !  Yonder  comes  the  carpenter. 
Xow  we  will  hear  something." 

The  person  spoken  of  was  quite  venerable  in  appearance. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  129 

Thin  white  locks  fell  below  the  edge  of  his  full  turban,  and 
a  mass  of  still  whiter  beard  flowed  down  the  front  of  his 
coarse  gray  gown.  He  came  slowly,  for,  in  addition  to  his 
age,  he  carried  some  tools — an  axe,  a  saw,  and  a  drawing- 
knife,  all  very  rude  and  heavy — and  had  evidently  travelled 
some  distance  without  rest. 

He  stopped  close  by  to  survey  the  assemblage. 

"  O  Rabbi,  good  liabbi  Joseph  !"  cried  a  woman,  running 
to  him.  "  Here  is  a  prisoner ;  come  ask  the  soldiers  about 
him,  that  we  may  know  who  he  is,  and  what  he  has  done, 
and  what  they  are  going  to  do  with  him." 

The  rabbi's  face  remained  stolid ;  he  glanced  at  the 
prisoner,  however,  and  presently  went  to  the  officer. 

"  The  peace  of  the  Lord  be  with  you !"  he  said,  with 
unbending  gravity. 

'  And  that  of  the  gods  with  you,"  the  decurion  replied. 

'  Are  you  from  Jerusalem  ?" 

<  Yes." 

'  Your  prisoner  is  young." 

'  In  years,  yes." 

'  May  I  ask  what  he  has  done  ?" 
'  He  is  an  assassin." 

The  people  repeated  the  word  in  astonishment,  but  Rab 
bi  Joseph  pursued  his  inquest. 

"  Is  he  a  son  of  Israel  ?" 

"  lie  is  a  Jew,"  said  the  Roman,  dryly. 

The  wavering  pity  of  the  bystanders  came  back. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  your  tribes,  but  can  speak  of  his 
family,"  the  speaker  continued.  "  You  may  have  heard  of 
a  prince  of  Jerusalem  named  Hur — Ben-IIur,  they  called 
him.  He  lived  in  Herod's  day." 

"  I  have  seen  him,"  Joseph  said. 

"  Well,  this  is  his  son." 

Exclamations  became  general,  and  the  decurion  hastened 
to  stop  them. 

"  In  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  day  before  yesterday,  he 
nearly  killed  the  noble  Gratus  by  flinging  a  tile  upon  his 
head  from  the  roof  of  a  palace — his  father's,  I  believe." 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  conversation  during  which  the 
Nazarenes  gazed  at  the  young  Ben-IIur  as  at  a  wild  beast. 


130  BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHKIST. 

'  Did  he  kill  him  ?"  asked  the  rabbi. 
'  No." 

'  He  is  under  sentence." 
'  Yes — the  galleys  for  life." 

'  The  Lord  help  him  !"  said  Joseph,  for  once  moved  out 
of  his  stolidity. 

Thereupon  a  youth  who  came  up  with  Joseph,  but  had 
stood  behind  him  unobserved,  laid  down  an  axe  he  had 
been  carrying,  and,  going  to  the  great  stone  standing  by 
the  well,  took  from  it  a  pitcher  of  water.  The  action  was 
so  quiet  that  before  the  guard  could  interfere,  had  they 
been  disposed  to  do  so,  he  was  stooping  over  the  prisoner, 
and  offering  him  drink. 

The  hand  laid  kindly  upon  his  shoulder  awoke  the  un 
fortunate  Judah,  and,  looking  up,  he  saw  a  face  he  never 
forgot — the  face  of  a  boy  about  his  own  age,  shaded  by 
locks  of  yellowish  bright  chestnut  hair ;  a  face  lighted  by 
dark-blue  eyes,  at  the  time  so  soft,  so  appealing,  so  full  of 
love  and  holy  purpose,  that  they  had  all  the  power  of  com 
mand  and  will.  The  spirit  of  the  Jew,  hardened  though  it 
was  by  days  and  nights  of  suffering,  and  so  embittered  by 
wrong  that  its  dreams  of  revenge  took  in  all  the  world, 
melted  under  the  stranger's  look,  and  became  as  a  child's. 
He  put  his  lips  to  the  pitcher,  and  drank  long  and  deep. 
Not  a  word  was  said  to  him,  nor  did  he  say  a  word. 

AVhen  the  draught  was  finished,  the  hand  that  had  been 
resting  upon  the  sufferer's  shoulder  was  placed  upon  his 
head,  and  stayed  there  in  the  dusty  locks  time  enough  to 
say  a  blessing ;  the  stranger  then  returned  the  pitcher  to 
its  place  on  the  stone,  and,  taking  his  axe  again,  went  back 
to  Rabbi  Joseph.  All  eyes  went  with  him,  the  decurion's 
as  well  as  those  of  the  villagers. 

This  was  the  end  of  the  scene  at  the  well.  When  the 
men  had  drunk,  and  the  horses,  the  march  was  resumed. 
But  the  temper  of  the  decurion  was  not  as  it  had  been  ;  he 
himself  raised  the  prisoner  from  the  dust,  and  helped  him 
on  a  horse  behind  a  soldier.  The  Nazarenes  went  to  their 
houses — among  them  Rabbi  Joseph  and  his  apprentice. 

And  so,  for  the  first  time,  Judah  and  the  son  of  Mary 
met  and  parted. 


BOOK  THIRD. 


"  Cleopatra.  .  .  .  Our  size  of  sorrow, 
Proportion'd  to  our  cause,  must  be  as  great 
As  that  which  makes  it. — 

Enter,  below,  DIOMEDES. 

How  now  ?  is  he  dead  ? 
Diomcdes.     His  death's  upon  him,  but  not  dead." 

Antony  and  Cleopatra  (act  iv.,  sc.  xiii.). 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  city  of  Misenum  gave  name  to  the  promontory 
which  it  crowned,  a  few  miles  southwest  of  Naples.  An 
account  of  ruins  is  all  that  remains  of  it  now ;  yet  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  24  —  to  which  it  is  desirable  to  advance 
the  reader — the  place  was  one  of  the  most  important  on 
the  western  coast  of  Italy.* 

In  the  year  mentioned,  a  traveller  coming  to  the  promon 
tory  to  regale  himself  with  the  view  there  offered,  would 
have  mounted  a  wall,  and,  with  the  city  at  his  back,  looked 
over  the  bay  of  Neapolis,  as  charming  then  as  now ;  and 
then,  as  now,  he  would  have  seen  the  matchless  shore,  the 
smoking  cone,  the  sky  and  waves  so  softly,  deeply  blue, 
Ischia  here  and  Capri  yonder ;  from  one  to  the  other  and 
back  again,  through  the  purpled  air,  his  gaze  would  have 
sported  ;  at  last — for  the  eyes  do  weary  of  the  beautiful  as 
the  palate  with  sweets — at  last  it  would  huve  dropped  upon 

*  The  Roman  government,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  two  harbors 
in  which  great  fleets  were  constantly  kept — Ravenna  and  Misenum, 


132  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST. 

a  spectacle  which  the  modern  tourist  cannot  see — half  the 
reserve  navy  of  Rome  astir  or  at  anchor  below  him.  Thus 
regarded,  Misenum  was  a  very  proper  place  for  three  mas 
ters  to  meet,  and  at  leisure  parcel  the  world  among  them. 

In  the  old  time,  moreover,  there  was  a  gateway  in  the 
wall  at  a  certain  point  fronting  the  sea — an  empty  gate 
way  forming  the  outlet  of  a  street  which,  after  the  exit, 
stretched  itself,  in  the  form  of  a  broad  mole,  out  many 
stadia  into  the  waves. 

The  watchman  on  the  wall  above  the  gateway  was  dis 
turbed,  one  cool  September  morning,  by  a  party  coming 
down  the  street  in  noisy  conversation.  lie  gave  one  look, 
then  settled  into  his  drowse  again. 

There  were  twenty  or  thirty  persons  in  the  party,  of 
whom  the  greater  number  were  slaves  with  torches,  Avhich 
flamed  little  and  smoked  much,  leaving  on  the  air  the  per 
fume  of  the  Indian  nard.  The  masters  walked  in  advance 
arm-in-arm.  One  of  them,  apparently  fifty  years  old,  slight 
ly  bald,  and  wearing  over  his  scant  locks  a  crown  of  laurel, 
seemed,  from  the  attentions  paid  him,  the  central  object  of 
some  affectionate  ceremony.  They  all  sported  ample  togas 
of  white  wool  broadly  bordered  with  purple.  A  glance 
had  sufficed  the  watchman.  He  knew,  without  question, 
they  were  of  high  rank,  and  escorting  a  friend  to  ship  af 
ter  a  night  of  festivity.  Further  explanation  will  be  found 
in  the  conversation  they  carried  on. 

"  No,  my  Quintus,"  said  one,  speaking  to  him  with  the 
crown,  "  it  is  ill  of  Fortune  to  take  thee  from  us  so  soon. 
Only  yesterday  thou  didst  return  from  the  seas  beyond 
the  Pillars.  AVhy,  thou  hast  not  even  got  back  thy  land 
legs." 

"  By  Castor  !  if  a  man  may  swear  a  woman's  oath,"  said 
another,  somewhat  worse  of  wine,  "  let  us  not  lament.  Our 
Quintus  is  but  going  to  find  what  he  lost  last  night.  Dice 
on  a  rolling  ship  is  not  dice  on  shore — eh,  Quintus  ?" 

"  Abuse  not  Fortune  !"  exclaimed  a  third.  "  She  is  not 
blind  or  fickle.  At  Antium,  where  our  Arrius  questions 
her,  she  answers  him  with  nods,  and  at  sea  she  abides  with 
him  holding  the  rudder.  She  takes  him  from  us,  but  does 
sW  not  always  give  him  back  with  a  new  victory?" 


BEX-IIUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  133 

"  The  Greeks  are  taking  him  away,"  another  broke  in. 
"  Let  us  abuse  them,  not  the  gods.  In  learning  to  trade 
they  forgot  how  to  fight." 

"With  these  words,  the  party  passed  the  gateway,  and 
came  upon  the  mole,  with  the  bay  before  them  beautiful 
in  the  morning  light.  To  the  veteran  sailor  the  plash  of 
the  waves  was  like  a  greeting.  He  drew  a  long  breath,  as 
if  the  perfume  of  the  water  were  sweeter  than  that  of  tfie 
nard,  and  held  his  hand  aloft. 

"  My  gifts  were  at  Prreneste,  not  Antium  —  and  see  ! 
Wind  from  the  west.  Thanks,  O  Fortune,  my  mother  !" 
he  said,  earnestly. 

The  friends  all  repeated  the  exclamation,  and  the  slaves 
waved  their  torches. 

"  She  comes — yonder  !"  he  continued,  pointing  to  a  gal 
ley  outside  the  mole.  "  What  need  has  a  sailor  for  other 
mistress  ?  Is  your  Lucrece  more  graceful,  my  Gains  ?" 

He  gazed  at  the  coming  ship,  and  justified  his  pride. 
A  white  sail  was  bent  to  the  low  mast,  and  the  oars  dipped, 
arose,  poised  a  moment,  then  dipped  again,  with  wing-like 
action,  and  in  perfect  time. 

"  Yes,  spare  the  gods,"  he  said,  soberly,  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  vessel.  "  They  send  us  opportunities.  Ours  the 
fault  if  we  fail.  And  as  for  the  Greeks,  you  forget,  O  my 
Lcntulus,  the  pirates  I  am  going  to  punish  arc  Greeks. 
One  victory  over  them  is  of  more  account  than  a  hundred 
over  the  Africans." 

"  Then  thy  way  is  to  the  ^Egean  ?" 

The  sailor's  eyes  were  full  of  his  ship. 

"  What  grace,  what  freedom  !  A  bird  hath  not  less  care 
for  the  fretting  of  the  waves.  See !"  he  said,  but  almost 
immediately  added,  "  Thy  pardon,  my  Lcntulus.  I  am  go 
ing  to  the  ^Egean ;  and  as  my  departure  is  so  near,  I  will 
tell  the  occasion — only  keep  it  under  the  rose.  I  would 
not  that  you  abuse  the  duumvir  when  next  you  meet  him. 
He  is  my  friend.  The  trade  between  Greece  and  Alexan 
dria,  as  ye  may  have  heard,  is  hardly  inferior  to  that  be 
tween  Alexandria  and  Rome.  The  people  in  that  part  of 
the  world  forgot  to  celebrate  the  Cerealia,  and  Triptolemus 
paid  them  with  a  harvest  not  worth  the  gathering.  At  all 


131  BEX-IIUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

events,  tlie  trade  is  so  grown  that  it  will  not  brook  interrup 
tion  a  day.  Ye  may  also  have  heard  of  the  Chcrsonesan 
pirates,  nested  up  in  the  Euxine ;  none  bolder,  by  the 
Bacchse  !  Yesterday  word  came  to  Rome  that,  with  a  fleet, 
they  had  rowed  down  the  Bosphorus,  sunk  the  galleys  off 
Byzantium  and  Chalcedon,  swept  the  Propontis,  and,  still 
unsated,  burst  through  into  the  ^Egean.  The  corn-mer 
chants  who  have  ships  in  the  East  Mediterranean  are 
frightened.  They  had  audience  with  the  Emperor  himself, 
and  from  Ravenna  there  go  to-day  a  hundred  galleys,  and 
from  Misenum  " — he  paused  as  if  to  pique  the  curiosity  of 
his  friends,  and  ended  with  an  emphatic — "  one." 

"  Happy  Quintus  !     We  congratulate  thee  !" 

"  The  preferment  forerunneth  promotion.  We  salute 
thee  duumvir ;  nothing  less." 

"  Quintus  Arrius,  the  duumvir,  hath  a  better  sound  than 
Quintus  Arrius,  the  tribune." 

In  such  manner  they  showered  him  with  congratula 
tions. 

"  I  am  glad  with  the  rest,"  said  the  bibulous  friend, 
"  very  glad  ;  but  I  must  be  practical,  O  my  duumvir ;  and 
not  until  I  know  if  promotion  will  help  thee  to  knowledge 
of  the  tessene  will  I  have  an  opinion  as  to  whether  the 
gods  mean  thee  ill  or  good  in  this — this  business." 

"  Thanks,  many  thanks !"  Arrius  replied,  speaking  to 
them  collectively.  "  Had  ye  but  lanterns,  I  would  say  ye 
were  augurs.  Perpol !  I  will  go  further,  and  show  what 
master  diviners  ye  are  !  See — and  read." 

From  the  folds  of  his  toga  he  drew  a  roll  of  paper,  and 
passed  it  to  them,  saying,  "  Received  while  at  table  last 
night  from — Sejanus." 

The  name  was  already  a  great  one  in  the  Roman  world  ; 
great,  and  not  so  infamous  as  it  afterwards  became. 

"  Sejanus  !"  they  exclaimed,  with  one  voice,  closing  in  to 
read  what  the  minister  had  written. 

"  Sejanus  to  C.  Ccecilius  Rufm,  Duumvir. 

"  ROME,  XIX.  Kal.  Sept. 

"  Ctcsar  hath  good  report  of  Quintus  Arrius,  the  tribune.  In  par 
ticular  he  hath  heard  of  his  valor,  manifested  in  the  western  seas  ;  in 
somuch  that  it  is  his  will  that  the  said  Quintus  be  transferred  instant 
ly  to  the  East. 


BEX-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  135 

"  It  is  our  Caesar's  will,  further,  that  you  cause  a  hundred  triremes, 
of  the  first  class,  and  full  appointment,  to  be  despatched  without 
delay  against  the  pirates  who  have  appeared  in  the  ./Egean,  and  that 
Quintus  he  sent  to  command  the  fleet  so  despatched. 

"  Details  are  thine,  my  Ctecilius. 

"  The  necessity  is  urgent,  as  thoa  wilt  be  advised  by  the  reports  en 
closed  for  thy  perusal  and  the  information  of  the  said  Quintus. 

"SKJANCS." 

Arrius  gave  little  heed  to  the  reading.  As  the  ship 
drew  more  plainly  out  of  the  perspective,  she  became  more 
and  more  an  attraction  to  him.  The  look  with  which  he 
watched  her  was  that  of  an  enthusiast.  At  length  he 
tossed  the  loosened  folds  of  his  toga  in  the  air ;  in  reply 
to  the  signal,  over  the  aplustre,  or  fan-like  fixture  at  the 
stern  of  the  vessel,  a  scarlet  flag  was  displayed ;  while 
several  sailors  appeared  upon  the  bulwarks,  and  swung 
themselves  hand  over  hand  up  the  ropes  to  the  antenna,  or 
yard,  and  furled  the  sail.  The  bow  was  put  round,  and 
the  time  of  the  oars  increased  one  half ;  so  that  at  racing 
speed  she  bore  down  directly  towards  him  and  his  friends. 
lie  observed  the  manoeuvring  with  a  perceptible  brighten 
ing  of  the  eyes.  Her  instant  answer  to  the  rudder,  and 
the  steadiness  with  which  she  kept  her  course,  were  espe 
cially  noticeable  as  virtues  to  be  relied  upon  in  action. 

"  By  the  Nymphse  !"  said  one  of  the  friends,  giving  back 
the  roll,  "  we  may  not  longer  say  our  friend  will  be  great ; 
he  is  already  great.  Our  love  will  now  have  famous  things 
to  feed  upon.  What  more  hast  thou  for  us  ?" 

"  Nothing  more,"  Arrius  replied.  "  What  ye  have  of 
the  affair  is  by  this  time  old  news  in  Rome,  especially  be 
tween  the  palace  and  the  Forum.  The  duumvir  is  discreet ; 
what  I  am  to  do,  where  go  to  find  my  fleet,  he  will  tell  on 
the  ship,  where  a  sealed  package  is  waiting  me.  If,  how 
ever,  ye  have  offerings  for  any  of  the  altars  to-day,  pray 
the  gods  for  a  friend  plying  oar  and  sail  somewhere  in  the 
direction  of  Sicily.  But  she  is  here,  and  will  come  to,"  he 
said,  reverting  to  the  vessel.  "  I  have  interest  in  her  mas 
ters  ;  they  will  sail  and  fight  with  me.  It  is  not  an  easy 
thing  to  lay  ship  side  on  a  shore  like  this ;  so  let  us  judge 
their  training  and  skill." 

"  What,  is  she  new  to  thee  ?" 


136  BEN-UUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

"  I  never  saw  her  before  ;  and,  as  yet,  I  know  not  if  she 
will  bring  me  one  acquaintance." 

"  Is  that  well  2" 

"  It  matters  but  little.  "We  of  the  sea  come  to  know 
each  other  quickly ;  our  loves,  like  our  hates,  are  born  of 
sudden  dangers." 

The  vessel  was  of  the  class  called  naves  liburnicce — long, 
narrow,  low  in  the  water,  and  modelled  for  speed  and  quick 
manoeuvre.  The  bow  was  beautiful.  A  jet  of  water  spun 
from  its  foot  as  she  came  on,  sprinkling  all  the  prow,  which 
rose  in  graceful  curvature  twice  a  man's  stature  above  the 
plane  of  the  deck.  Upon  the  bending  of  the  sides  were 
figures  of  Tritons  blowing  shells.  Below  the  bow,  fixed 
to  the  keel,  and  projecting  forward  under  the  water-line, 
was  the  rostrum,  or  beak,  a  device  of  solid  wood,  rein 
forced  and  armed  with  iron,  in  action  used  as  a  ram.  A 
stout  moulding  extended  from  the  bow  the  full  length  of 
the  ship's  sides,  defining  the  bulwarks,  which  were  taste 
fully  crenelated  ;  below  the  moulding,  in  three  rows,  each 
covered  with  a  cap  or  shield  of  bull-hide,  were  the  holes  in 
which  the  oars  were  worked  —  sixty  on  the  right,  sixty  on 
the  left.  In  further  ornamentation,  caducei  leaned  against 
the  lofty  prow.  Two  immense  ropes  passing  across  the  bow 
marked  the  number  of  anchors  stowed  on  the  foredeck. 

The  simplicity  of  the  upper  works  declared  the  oars  the 
chief  dependence  of  the  crew.  A  mast,  set  a  little  forward 
of  midship,  was  held  by  fore  and  back  stays  and  shrouds 
fixed  to  rings  on  the  inner  side  of  the  bulwarks.  The 
tackle  was  that  required  for  the  management  of  one  great 
square  sail  and  the  yard  to  which  it  was  hung.  Above  the 
bulwarks  the  deck  was  visible. 

Save  the  sailors  who  had  reefed  the  sail,  and  yet  lingered 
on  the  yard,  but  one  man  was  to  be  seen  by  the  party  on 
the  mole,  and  he  stood  by  the  prow  helmeted  and  with  a 
shield. 

The  hundred  and  twenty  oaken  blades,  kept  white  and 
shining  by  pumice  and  the  constant  wash  of  the  waves, 
rose  and  fell  as  if  operated  by  the  same  hand,  and  drove 
the  galley  forward  with  a  speed  rivalling  that  of  a  modern 
steamer. 


BEN-nUR:  A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  137 

So  rapidly,  and  apparently  so  rashly,  did  she  come  that 
the  landsmen  of  the  tribune's  party  were  alarmed.  Sud 
denly  the  man  by  the  prow  raised  his  hand  with  a  pecul 
iar  gesture  ;  whereupon  all  the  oars  flew  up,  poised  a  mo 
ment  in  the  air,  then  fell  straight  down.  The  water  boiled 
and  bubbled  about  them  ;  the  galley  shook  in  every  timber, 
and  stopped  as  if  scared.  Another  gesture  of  the  hand, 
and  again  the  oars  arose,  feathered,  and  fell ;  but  this  time 
those  on  the  right,  dropping  towards  the  stern,  pushed  for 
ward  ;  while  those  on  the  left,  dropping  towards  the  bow, 
pulled  backwards.  Three  times  the  oars  thus  pushed  and 
pulled  against  each  other.  Round  to  the  right  the  ship 
swung  as  upon  a  pivot ;  then,  caught  by  the  wind,  she 
settled  gently  broadside  to  the  mole. 

The  movement  brought  the  stern  to  view,  with  all  its 
garniture — Tritons  like  those  at  the  bow ;  name  in  large 
raised  letters ;  the  rudder  at  the  side ;  the  elevated  plat 
form  upon  which  the  helmsman  sat,  a  stately  figure  in  full 
armor,  .his  hand  upon  the  rudder-rope ;  and  the  aplustre, 
high,  gilt,  carved,  and  bent  over  the  helmsman  like  a  great 
runcinate  leaf. 

.In  the  midst  of  the  rounding-to,  a  trumpet  was  blown 
brief  and  shrill,  and  from  the  hatchways  out  poured  the 
marines,  all  in  superb  equipment,  brazen  helms,  burnished 
shields  and  javelins.  While  the  fighting-men  thus  went 
to  quarters  as  for  action,  the  sailors  proper  climbed  the 
shrouds  and  perched  themselves  along  the  yard.  The  of 
ficers  and  musicians  took  their  posts.  There  was  no  shout 
ing  or  needless  noise.  When  the  oars  touched  the  mole, 
a  bridge  was  sent  out  from  the  helmsman's  deck.  Then 
the  tribune  turned  to  his  party  and  said,  with  a  gravity  he 
had  not  before  shown  : 

"  Duty  now,  O  my  friends." 

lie  took  the  chaplet  from  his  head  and  gave  it  to  the 
dice-player. 

"  Take  thou  the  myrtle,  O  favorite  of  the  tessera? !"  lie 
said.  "  If  I  return,  I  will  seek  my  sestertii  again  ;  if  I  am 
not  victor,  I  will  not  return.  Hang  the  crown  in  thy  atrium." 

To  the  company  he  opened  his  arms,  and  they  came  one 
by  one  and  received  his  parting  embrace. 


138  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  The  gods  go  with  thcc,  O  Quintus  !"  they  said. 

"  Farewell,"  he  replied. 

To  the  slaves  waving  their  torches  he  waved  his  hand ; 
then  he  turned  to  the  waiting  ship,  beautiful  with  ordered 
ranks  and  crested  helms,  and  shields  and  javelins.  As  he 
stepped  upon  the  bridge,  the  trumpets  sounded,  and  over 
the  aplustrc  rose  the  vexillum  purpureum,  or  pennant  of  a 
commander  of  a  fleet. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  tribune,  standing  upon  the  helmsman's  deck  with 
the  order  of  the  duumvir  open  in  his  hand,  spoke  to  the* 
chief  of  the  rowers.* 

"  What  force  hast  thou  ?" 

"  Of  oarsmen,  two  hundred  and  fifty-two  ;  ten  supernu 
meraries." 

"  Making  reliefs  of — " 

"  Eighty-four." 

"  And  thy  habit  ?" 

"  It  has  been  to  take  off  and  put  on  every  two  hours." 

The  tribune  mused  a  moment. 

"  The  division  is  hard,  and  I  will  reform  it,  but  not  now. 
The  oars  may  not  rest  day  or  night." 

Then  to  the  sailing-master  he  said, 

"  The  wind  is  fair.     Let  the  sail  help  the  oars." 

When  the  two  thus  addressed  were  gone,  he  turned  to 
the  chief  pilot. \ 

'  What  service  hast  thou  had  ?" 

'  Two-and-thirty  years." 

'  In  what  seas  chiefly  ?" 

'  Between  our  Rome  and  the  East." 

'  Thou  art  the  man  I  would  have  chosen." 

The  tribune  looked  at  his  orders  again. 

"  Past  the  Camponellan  cape,  the  course  will  be  to  Mes 
sina.  Beyond  that,  follow  the  bend  of  the  Calabrian  shore 

*  Called  fiortator.  t  Called  rector. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  139 

till  Mclito  is  on  thy  left,  then —  Knowest  tliou  tlic  stars 
that  govern  in  the  Ionian  Sea  ?" 

"I  know  them  well." 

"  Then  from  Mclito  course  eastward  for  Cythera.  The 
gods  willing,  I  will  not  anchor  until  in  the  Bay  of  Ante- 
mona.  The  duty  is  urgent.  I  rely  upon  thee." 

A  prudent  man  was  Arrius — prudent,  and  of  the  class 
which,  while  enriching  the  altars  at  Pneneste  and  Antium, 
was  of  opinion,  nevertheless,  that  the  favor  of  the  blind 
goddess  depended  more  upon  the  votary's  care  and  judg 
ment  than  upon  his  gifts  and  vows.  All  night  as  master 
of  the  feast  he  had  sat  at  table  drinking  and  playing ;  yet 
the  odor  of  the  sea  returned  him  to  the  mood  of  the  sailor, 
and  he  would  not  rest  until  he  knew  his  ship.  Knowledge 
leaves  no  room  for  chances.  Having  begun  with  the  chief 
of  the  rowers,  the  sailing-master,  and  the  pilot,  in  company 
with  the  other  officers — the  commander  of  the  marines,  the 
keeper  of  the  stores,  the  master  of  the  machines,  the  over 
seer  of  the  kitchen  or  tires — he  passed  through  the  several 
quarters.  Nothing  escaped  his  inspection.  When  he  was 
through,  of  the  community  crowded  within  the  narrow 
walls  he  alone  knew  perfectly  all  there  was  of  material 
preparation  for  the  voyage  and  its  possible  incidents  ;  and, 
finding  the  preparation  complete,  there  was  left  him  but 
one  thing  further — thorough  knowledge  of  the  personnel 
of  his  command.  As  this  was  the  most  delicate  and  diffi 
cult  part  of  his  task,  requiring  much  time,  he  set  about  it 
his  own  way. 

At  noon  that  day  the  galley  was  skimming  the  sea  off 
Psestum.  The  wind  was  yet  from  the  west,  filling  the  sail 
to  the  master's  content.  The  watches  had  been  established. 
On  the  forcdeck  the  altar  had  been  set  and  sprinkled  with 
salt  and  barley,  and  before  it  the  tribune  had  offered  sol 
emn  prayers  to  Jove  and  to  Neptune  and  all  the  Oceanida^ 
and,  with  vows,  poured  the  wine  and  burned  the  incense. 
And  now,  the  better  to  study  his  men,  he  was  seated  in  the 
great  cabin,  a  very  martial  figure. 

The  cabin,  it  should  be  stated,  was  the  central  compart 
ment  of  the  galley,  in  extent  quite  sixty-five  by  thirty  feet, 
and  lighted  by  three  broad  hatchways.  A  row  of  stan- 


140  BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

chions  ran  from  end  to  end,  supporting  the  roof,  and  near 
the  centre  the  mast  was  visible,  all  bristling  with  axes  and 
spears  and  javelins.  To  each  hatchway  there  were  double 
stairs  descending  right  and  left,  with  a  pivotal  arrangement 
at  the  top  to  allow  the  lower  ends  to  be  hitched  to  the 
ceiling ;  and,  as  these  were  now  raised,  the  compartment 
had  the  appearance  of  a  skylighted  hall. 

The  reader  will  understand  readily  that  this  was  the 
heart  of  the  ship,  the  home  of  all  aboard — eating-room, 
sleeping-chamber,  field  of  exercise,  lounging-place  off  duty 
— uses  made  possible  by  the  laws  which  reduced  life  there 
to  minute  details  and  a  routine  relentless  as  death. 

At  the  after-end  of  the  cabin  there  was  a  platform,  reached 
by  several  steps.  Upon  it  the  chief  of  the  rowers  sat ; 
in  front  of  him  a  sounding-table,  upon  which,  with  a  gavel, 
he  beat  time  for  the  oarsmen ;  at  his  right  a  clepsydra,  or 
water-clock,  to  measure  the  reliefs  and  watches.  Above 
him,  on  a  higher  platform,  well  guarded  by  gilded  railing, 
the  tribune  had  his  quarters,  overlooking  everything,  and 
furnished  with  a  couch,  a  table,  and  a  cathedra,  or  chair, 
cushioned,  and  with  arms  and  high  back — articles  which 
the  imperial  dispensation  permitted  of  the  utmost  elegance. 

Thus  at  ease,  lounging  in  the  great  chair,  swaying  with 
the  motion  of  the  vessel,  the  military  cloak  half  draping 
his  tunic,  sword  in  belt,  Arrius  kept  watchful  eye  over  his 
command,  and  was  as  closely  watched  by  them.  lie  saw 
critically  everything  in  view,  but  dwelt  longest  upon  the 
rowers.  The  reader  Avould  doubtless  have  done  the  .same  : 
only  he  would  have  looked  with  much  sympathy,  while,  as 
is  the  habit  with  masters,  the  tribune's  mind  ran  forward 
of  what  he  saw,  inquiring  for  results. 

The  spectacle  was  simple  enough  of  itself.  Along  the 
sides  of  the  cabin,  fixed  to  the  ship's  timbers,  were  what  at 
first  appeared  to  be  three  rows  of  benches ;  a  closer  view, 
however,  showed  them  a  succession  of  rising  banks,  in  each 
of  which  the  second  bench  was  behind  and  above  the  first 
one,  and  the  third  above  and  behind  the  second.  To  ac 
commodate  the  sixty  rowers  on  a  side,  the  space  devoted 
to  them  permitted  nineteen  banks  separated  by  intervals 
of  one  yard,  with  a  twentieth  bank  divided  so  that  what 


BEN.UUB;    A.   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  141 

would  have  been  its  upper  seat  or  bencli  was  directly  above 
the  lower  seat  of  the  iirst  bank.  The  arrangement  gave 
each  rower  when  at  work  ample  room,  if  he  timed  his 
movements  with  those  of  his  associates,  the  principle  being 
that  of  soldiers  marching  wita  cadenced  step  in  close  order. 
The  arrangement  also  allowed  a  multiplication  of  banks, 
limited  only  by  the  length  of  the  galley. 

As  to  the  rowers,  those  upon  the  iirst  and  second  benches 
sat,  while  those  upon  the  third,  having  longer  oars  to  work, 
were  suffered  to  stand.  The  oars  were  loaded  with  lead  in 
the  handles,  and  near  the  point  of  balance  hung  to  pliable 
thongs,  making  possible  the  delicate  touch  called  feathering, 
but,  at  the  same  time,  increasing  the  need  of  skill,  since 
an  eccentric  wave  might  at  any  moment  catch  a  heedless 
fellow  and  hurl  him  from  his  seat.  Each  oar-hole  was  a 
vent  through  which  the  laborer  opposite  it  Aad  his  plenty 
of  sweet  air.  Light  streamed  down  upon  him  from  the 
grating  which  formed  the  floor  of  the  passage  between  the 
deck  and  the  bulwark  over  his  head.  In  some  respects, 
therefore,  the  condition  of  the  men  might  have  been  much 
worse.  Still,  it  must  not  be  imagined  that  there  was  any 
pleasantness  in  their  lives.  Communication  between  them 
was  not  allowed.  Day  after  day  they  filled  their  places 
without  speech  ;  in  hours  of  labor  they  could  not  see  each 
other's  faces ;  their  short  respites  were  given  to  sleep  and 
the  snatching  of  food.  They  never  laughed  ;  no  one  ever 
heard  one  of  them  sing.  AVhat  is  the  use  of  tongues  when 
a  sigh  or  a  groan  will  tell  all  men  feel  while,  perforce,  they 
think  in  silence  ?  Existence  with  the  poor  wretches  was 
like  a  stream  under  ground  sweeping  slowly,  laboriously 
on  to  its  outlet,  wherever  that  might  chance  to  be. 

O  Son  of  Mary  !  The  sword  has  now  a  heart — and  thine 
the  glory !  So  now ;  but,  in  the  days  of  which  we  are 
writing,  for  captivity  there  was  drudgery  on  walls,  and  in 
the  streets  and  mines,  and  the  galleys  both  of  war  and  com 
merce  were  insatiable.  When  Druilius  won  the  first  sea- 
light  for  his  country,  Romans  plied  the  oars,  and  the  glory 
was  to  the  rower  not  less  than  the  marine.  These  benches 
which  now  we  arc  trying  to  see  as  they  were  testified  to 
the  change  come  with  conquest,  and  illustrated  both  the 


142  BEN-HCR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

policy  and  tlic  prowess  of  Rome.  Nearly  all  the  nations 
had  sons  there,  mostly  prisoners  of  war,  chosen  for  their 
brawn  and  endurance.  In  one  place  a  Briton  ;  before  him 
a  Libyan  ;  behind  him  a  Crimean.  Elsewhere  a  Scythian, 
a  Gaul,  and  a  Thebasite.  Roman  convicts  cast  down  to 
consort  with  Goths  and  Longobardi,  Jews,  Ethiopians,  and 
barbarians  from  the  shores  of  M;eotis.  Here  an  Athenian, 
there  a  red-haired  savage  from  llibcrnia,  yonder  blue-eyed 
giants  of  the  Cimbri. 

In  the  labor  of  the  rowers  there  was  not  enough  art  to 
give  occupation  to  their  minds,  rude  and  simple  as  they 
were.  The  reach  forward,  the  pull,  the  feathering  the  blade, 
the  dip,  were  all  there  was  of  it ;  motions  most  perfect 
when  most  automatic.  Even  the  care  forced  upon  them  by 
the  sea  outside  grew  in  time  to  be  a  thing  instinctive  rather 
than  of  thought.  So,  as  the  result  of  long  service,  the  poor 
wretches  became  imbruted — patient,  spiritless,  obedient — 
creatures  of  vast  muscle  and  exhausted  intellects,  who  lived 
upon  recollections  generally  few  but  dear,  and  at  last  low 
ered  into  the  semi-conscious  alchemic  state  wherein  misery 
turns  to  habitT  and  the  soul  takes  on  incredible  endurance. 

From  right  to  left,  hour  after  hour,  the  tribune,  swaying 
in  his  easy-chair,  turned  with  thought  of  everything  rather 
than  the  wretchedness  of  the  slaves  upon  the  benches. 
Their  motions,  precise,  and  exactly  the  same  on  both  sides 
of  the  vessel,  after  a  while  became  monotonous  ;  and  then 
he  amused  himself  singling  out  individuals.  AVith  his 
stylus  he  made  note  of  objections,  thinking,  if  all  went 
well,  he  would  find  among  the  pirates  of  whom  he  was  in 
search  better  men  for  the  places. 

There  was  no  need  of  keeping  the  proper  names  of  the 
slaves  brought  to  the  galleys  as  to  their  graves ;  so,  for 
convenience,  they  were  usually  identified  by  the  numerals 
painted  upon  the  benches  to  which  they  were  assigned. 
As  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  great  man  moved  from  seat  to 
seat  on  either  hand,  they  came  at  last  to  number  sixty, 
which,  as  has  been  said,  belonged  properly  to  the  last  bank 
on  the  left-hand  side,  but,  wanting  room  aft,  had  been  fixed 
above  the  first  bench  of  the  first  bank.  There  they  rested. 

The  bench  of  number  sixty  was  slightly  above  the  level 


BEN-HUB:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  143 

of  the  platform,  and  but  a  few  feet  away.  The  light  glint 
ing  through  the  grating  over  his  head  gave  the  rower  fairly 
to  the  tribune's  view — erect,  and,  like  all  his  fellows,  naked, 
except  a  cincture  about  the  loins.  There  were,  however, 
some  points  in  his  favor.  lie  was  very  young,  not  more 
than  twenty.  Furthermore,  Arrius  was  not  merely  given  to 
dice ;  he  was  a  connoisseur  of  men  physically,  and  when 
ashore  indulged  a  habit  of  visiting  the  gymnasia  to  see  and 
admire  the  most  famous  athletai.  From  some  professor, 
doubtless,  he  had  caught  the  idea  that  .strength  was  as 
much  of  the  quality  as  the  quantity  of  the  muscle,  while 
^superiority  in  performance  required  a  certain  mind  as  well 
j^strelurth.  Having  adopted  the  doctrine,  like  most  men 
~with  a  nobby,  he  was  always  looking  for  illustrations  to 
support  it. 

The  reader  may  well  believe  that  while  the  tribune,  in  the 
search  for  the  perfect,  was  often  called  upon  to  stop  and 
study,  he  was  seldom  perfectly  satisfied^in  fact,  very  sel 
dom  held  as  long  as  on  this  occasion. 

In  the  beginning  of  each  movement  of  the  oar,  the  rower's 
body  and  face  were  brought  into  profile  view  from  the  plat 
form  ;  the  movement  ended  with  the  body  reversed,  and  in 
a  pushing  posture.  The  grace  and  ease  of  the  action  at  first 
suggested  a  doubt  of  the  honesty  of  the  effort  put  forth ; 
but  it  was  speedily  dismissed  ;  the  firmness  with  which  the 
oar  was  held  while  in  the  reach  forward,  its  bending  under 
the  push,  were  proofs  of  the  force  applied ;  not  that  only, 
they  as  certainly  proved  the  rower's  art,  and  put  the  critic  in 
the  great  arm-chair  in  search  of  the  combination  of  strength 
and  cleverness  which  was  the  central  idea  of  his  theory. 

In  course  of  the  study,  Arrius  observed  the  subject's 
youth ;  wholly  unconscious  of  tenderness  on  that  account, 
he  also  observed  that  he  seemed  of  good  height,  and  that 
his  limbs,  upper  and  nether,  were  singularly  perfect.  The 
arms,  perhaps,  were  too  long,  but  the  objection  was  well 
hidden  under  a  mass  of  muscle,  which,  in  some  movements, 
swelled  and  knotted  like  kinking  cords.  Every  rib  in  the 
round  body  was  discernible ;  yet  the  leanness  was  the 
healthful  reduction  so  strained  after  in  the  paltustrae.  And 
altogether  there  was  in  the  rower's  action  a  certain  harmony 


144  BEN-HUB:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

which,  besides  addressing  itself  to  the  tribune's  theory, 
stimulated  both  his  curiosity  and  general  interest. 

Very  soon  he  found  himself  waiting  to  catch  a  view  of 
the  man's  face  in  full.  The  head  was  shapely,  and  balanced 
upon  a  neck  broad  at  the  base,  but  of  exceeding  pliancy 
ajid  grace.  The  features  in  profile  were  of  Oriental  out 
line,  and  of  that  delicacy  of  expression  which  has  always 
been  thought  a  sign  of  blood  and  sensitive  spirit.  AYith 
these  observations,  the  tribune's  interest  in  the  subject 
deepened. 

"  By  the  gods,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  the  fellow  impresses 
me !  He  promises  well.  I  will  know  more  of  him." 

Directly  the  tribune  caught  the  view  he  wished — the 
rower  turned  and  looked  at  him. 

"  A  Jew  !  and  a  boy  !" 

Under  the  gaze  then  fixed  steadily  upon  him,  the  large 
eyes  of  the  slave  grew  larger — the  blood  surged  to  his  very 
brows — the  blade  lingered  in  his  hands.  But  instantly, 
with  ail  angry  crash,  down  fell  the  gavel  of  the  hortator. 
The  rower  started,  withdrew  his  face  from  the  inquisitor, 
and,  as  if  personally  chidden,  dropped  the  oar  half  feathered. 
When  he  glanced  again  at  the  tribune,  he  was  vastly  more 
astonished — he  was  met  with  a  kindly  smile. 

Meantime  the  galley  entered  the  Straits  of  Messina,  and, 
skimming  past  the  city  of  that  name,  was  after  a  while  turned 
eastward,  leaving  the  cloud  over  ^Etna  in  the  sky  astern. 

Often  as  Arrius  returned  to  his  platform  in  the  cabin  he 
returned  to  study  the  rower,  and  he  kept  saying  to  himself, 
"  The  fellow  hath  a  spirit.  A  Jew  is  not  a  barbarian.  I 
will  know  more  of  him." 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  fourth  day  out,  and  the  Astrcea — so  the  galley  was, 
named — speeding  through  the  Ionian  Sea.  The  sky  was 
clear,  and  the  wind  blew  as  if  bearing  the  good-will  of  all 
the  gods. 

As  it  was  possible  to  overtake  the  fleet  before  reaching 
the  bay  east  of  the  island  of  Cythera,  designated  for  asscm- 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  145 

blage,  Arrius,  somewhat  impatient,  spent  much  time  or. 
deck.  He  took  note  diligently  of  matters  pertaining  to  his 
ship,  and  as  a  rule  was  well  pleased.  In  the  cabin,  swinging 
in  the  great  chair,  his  thought  continually  reverted  to  the 
rower  on  number  sixty. 

"Knowest  thou  the  man  just  come  from  yon  bench?" 
he  at  length  asked  of  the  hortator. 

A  relief  was  going  on  at  the  moment. 

"  From  number  sixty  ?"  returned  the  chief. 

"  Yes." 

The  chief  looked  sharply  at  the  rower  then  going  forward. 

"  As  thou  knowest,"  he  replied,  "  the  ship  is  but  a  month 
from  the  maker's  hand,  and  the  men  are  as  new  to  me  as 
the  ship." 

"  He  is  a  Jew,"  Arrius  remarked,  thoughtfully. 

"  The  noble  Quintus  is  shrewd." 

"  He  is  very  young,"  Arrius  continued. 

"  But  our  best  rower,"  said  the  other.  "  I  have  seen 
his  oar  bend  almost  to  breaking." 

"  Of  what  disposition  is  he  ?" 

"  He  is  obedient ;  further  I  know  not.  Once  he  made 
request  of  me." 

"  For  what  ?" 

"  He  wished  me  to  change  him  alternately  from  the 
right  to  the  left." 

"  Did  he  give  a  reason  ?" 

"  He  had  observed  that  the  men  who  are  confined  to 
one  side  become  misshapen.  He  also  said  that  some  day  of 
storm  or  battle  there  might  be  sudden  need  to  change  him, 
and  he  might  then  be  unserviceable." 

"  Perj)ol 7  The  idea  is  new.  What  else  hast  thou  ob 
served  of  him  ?" 

"  He  is  cleanly  above  his  companions." 

"  In  that  he  is  Roman,"  said  Arrius,  approvingly. 
"  Have  you  nothing  of  his  history  ?" 

"  Not"  a  word." 

The  tribune  reflected  awhile,  and  turned  to  go  to  his 
own  seat. 

"  If  I  should  1  e  on  deck  when  his  time  is  up,"  he  paused 
to  say,  "  send  him  to  me.     Let  him  come  alone." 
10 


146  BEX-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

About  two  hours  later  Arrius  stood  under  the  aplustre 
of  the  galley  ;  in  the  mood  of  one  who,  seeing  himself  car 
ried  swiftly  towards  an  event  of  mighty  import,  has  nothing 
to  do  but  wait — the  mood  in  which  philosophy  vests  an 
even-minded  man  with  the  utmost  calm,  and  is  ever  so 
serviceable.  The  pilot  sat  with  a  hand  upon  the  rope  by 
which  the-  rudder  paddles,  one  on  each  side  of  the  vessel, 
were  managed.  In  the  shade  of  the  sail  some  sailors  lay 
asleep,  and  up  on  the  yard  there  was  a  lookout.  Lifting 
his  eyes  from  the  solarium  set  under  the  aplustre  for  refer 
ence  in  keeping  the  course,  Arrius  beheld  the  rower  ap 
proaching. 

"  The  chief  called  thee  the  noble  Arrius,  and  said  it  was 
thy  will  that  I  should  seek  thee  here.  I  have  come." 

Arrius  surveyed  the  figure,  tall,  sinewy,  glistening  in  the 
sun,  and  tinted  by  the  rich  red  blood  within — surveyed  it 
admiringly,  and  with  a  thought  of  the  arena  ;  yet  the  man 
ner  was  not  without  effect  upon  him :  there  was  in  the 
voice  a  suggestion  of  life  at  least  partly  spent  under  refin 
ing  influences ;  the  eyes  were  clear  and  open,  and  more 
curious  than  defiant.  To  the  shrewd,  demanding,  master 
ful  glance  bent  upon  it,  the  face  gave  back  nothing  to 
mar  its  youthful  comeliness — nothing  of  accusation  or  sul- 
lenness  or  menace,  only  the  signs  which  a  great  sorrow 
long  borne  imprints,  as  time  mellows  the  surface  of  pict 
ures.  In  tacit  acknowledgment  of  the  effect,  the  Roman 
spoke  as  an  older  man  to  a  younger,  not  as  a  master  to  a 
slave. 

'  The  hortator  tells  me  thou  art  his  best  rower." 

'  The  hortator  is  very  kind,"  the  rower  answered. 

'  Hast  thou  seen  much  service  ?" 

'  About  three  years." 

'  At  the  oars  ?" 

'  I  cannot  recall  a  day  of  rest  from  them." 

'  The  labor  is  hard ;  few  men  bear  it  a  year  without 
breaking,  and  thou — thou  art  but  a  boy." 

"  The  noble  Arrius  forgets  that  the  spirit  hath  much  to 
_do  with  endurance.    By  its  help  thcwcak  somctimejrthrh e^ 
when  the  strong  perish." 

"  From  thy  speech,  thou  art  a  Jew." 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  147 

"  My  ancestors  further  back  than  the  first  Roman  were 
Hebrews." 

"  The  stubborn  pride  of  thy  race  is  not  lost  in  thee," 
said  Arrius,  observing  a  flush  upon  the  rower's  face. 

".Pride  is  never  so  loud  as  when  in  chains." 

"  What  cause  hast  thou  for  pride  ?" 

"  That  I  am  a  Jew." 

Arrius  smiled. 

"  I  have  not  been  to  Jerusalem,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  have 
heard  of  its  princes.  I  knew  one  of  them.  He  was  a 
merchant,  and  sailed  the  seas.  He  was  fit  to  have  been 
a  king.  Of  what  degree  art  thou  ?" 

"  I  must  answer  thee  from  the  bench  of  a  galley.  I  am 
of  the  degree  of  slaves.  My  father  was  a  prince  of  Jerusa 
lem,  and,  as  a  merchant,  he  sailed  the  seas.  He  was  known 
and  honored  in  the  guest-chamber  of  the  great  Augustus." 

"  His  name  ?" 

"  Ithamar,  of  the  house  of  Hur." 

The  tribune  raised  his  hand  in  astonishment. 

"  A  son  of  Ilur— thou  ?" 

After  a  silence,  he  asked, 

"  What  brought  thee  here  ?" 

Judah  lowered  his  head,  and  his  breast  labored  hard. 
When  his  feelings  were  sufficiently  mastered,  he  looked 
the  tribune  in  the  face,  and  answered, 

"  I  was  accused  of  attempting  to  assassinate  Valerius 
Gratus,  the  procurator." 

"  Thou  !"  cried  Arrius,  yet  more  amazed,  and  retreating 
a  step.  "  Thou  that  assassin  !  All  Rome  rang  with  the 
story.  It  came  to  my  ship  in  the  river  by  Lodinum." 

The  two  regarded  each  other  silently. 

"  I  thought  th<3  family  of  Ilur  blotted  from  the  earth," 
said  Arrius,  speaking  first. 

A  flood  of  tender  recollections  carried  the  young  man's 
pride  away ;  tears  shone  upon  his  cheeks. 

"  Mother — mother  !  And  my  little  Tirzah  !  Where  are 
they  ?  O  tribune,  noble  tribune,  if  thou  knowest  anything 
of  them" — he  clasped  his  hands  in  appeal — "tell  me  all 
thou  knowest.  Tell  me  if  they  are  living — if  living,  where 
arc  they  ?  and  in  what  condition  ?  Oh,  I  pray  thee,  tell  me  !" 


148  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

He  drew  nearer  Arrius,  so  near  that  his  hands  touched 
the  cloak  where  it  dropped  from  the  latter's  folded  arms. 

"  The  horrible  day  is  three  years  gone,"  he  continued — 
"  three  years,  O  tribune,  and  every  hour  a  whole  lifetime 
of  misery — a  lifetime  in  a  bottomless  pit  with  death,  and 
no  relief  but  in  labor — and  in  all  that  time  not  a  word  from 
any  one,  not  a  whisper.  Oh,  if,  in  being  forgotten,  we 
could  only  forget !  If  only  I  could  hide  from  that  scene — 
my  sister  torn  from  me,  my  mother's  last  look !  I  have 
felt  the  plague's  breath,  and  the  shock  of  ships  in  battle ; 
I  have  heard  the  tempest  lashing  the  sea,  and  laughed, 
though  others  prayed :  death  would  have  been  a  riddance. 
Bend  the  oar — yes,  in  the  strain  of  mighty  effort  trying  to 
escape  the  haunting  of  what  that  day  occurred.  Think 
what  little  will  help  me.  Tell  me  they  are  dead,  if  no  more, 
for  happy  they  cannot  be  while  I  am  lost.  I  have  heard 
them  call  me  in  the  night ;  I  have  seen  them  on  the  water 
walking.  Oh,  never  anything  so  true  as  my  mother's  love  ! 
And  Tirzah — her  breath  was  as  the  breath  of  white  lilies. 
She  was  the  youngest  branch  of  the  palm — so  fresh,  so 
tender,  so  graceful,  so  beautiful  !  She  made  my  day  all 
morning.  She  came  and  went  in  music.  And  mine  was 
the  hand  that  laid  them  low  !  I — " 

"  Dost  thou  admit  thy  guilt  ?"  asked  Arrius,  sternly. 

The  change  that  came  upon  Ben-Hur  was  wonderful  to 
see,  it  was  so  instant  and  extreme.  The  voice  sharpened ; 
the  hands  arose  tight-clenched  ;  every  fibre  thrilled  ;  his 
eyes  inflamed. 

"  Thou  hast  heard  of  the  God  of  my  fathers,"  he  said ; 
"  of  the  infinite  Jehovah.  By  his  truth  and  almightiness, 
and  by  the  love  with  which  he  hath  followed  Israel  from 
the  beginning,  I  swear  I  am  innocent !" 

The  tribune  was  much  moved. 

"  0  noble  Roman  !"  continued  Ben-Hur,  "  give  me  a 
.little  faith,  and,  into  my  darkness,  deeper  darkening  every 
day,  send  a  light !" 

Arrius  turned  away,  and  walked  the  deck. 

"  Didst  thou  not  have  a  trial  ?"  he  asked,  stopping  sud- 
denlv. 

"  No  1" 


BEM-UUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CIIRIST.  149 

The  Roman  raised  his  head,  surprised. 

"  No  trial — no  witnesses  !  Who  passed  judgment  upon 
thee  !" 

Romans,  it  should  be  remembered,  were  at  no  time  such 
lovers  of  the  law  and  its  forms  as  in  the  ages  of  their  de 
cay. 

"  They  bound  me  with  cords,  and  dragged  me  to  a  vault 
in  the  Tower.  I  saw  no  one.  No  one  spoke  to  me.  Next 
day  soldiers  took  me  to  the  seaside.  I  have  been  a  galley- 
slave  ever  since." 

"  What  couldst  thou  have  proven  ?" 

"  I  was  a  boy,  too  young  to  be  a  conspirator.  Gratus 
was  a  stranger  to  me.  If  I  had  meant  to  kill  him,  that  was 
not  the  time  or  the  place.  He  was  riding  in  the  midst  of 
a  legion,  and  it  was  broad  day.  I  could  not  have  escaped. 
I  was  of  a  class  most  friendly  to  Rome.  My  father  had 
been  distinguished  for  his  services  to  the  emperor.  We 
had  a  great  estate  to  lose.  Ruin  was  certain  to  myself, 
my  mother,  my  sister.  I  had  no  cause  for  malice,  while 
every  consideration — property,  family,  life,  conscience,  the 
Law — to  a  son  of  Israel  as  the  breath  of  his  nostrils — would 
have  stayed  my  hand,  though  the  foul  intent  had  been 
ever  so  strong.  I  was  not  mad.  Death  was  preferable  to 
shame ;  and,  believe  me,  I  pray,  it  is  so  yet." 

"  Who  was  with  thee  when  the  blow  was  struck  ?" 

"  I  was  on  the  house-top — my  father's  house.  Tirzah 
was  with  me — at  my  side — the  soul  of  gentleness.  To 
gether  we  leaned  over  the  parapet  to  see  the  legion  pass. 
A  tile  gave  way  under  my  hand,  and  fell  upon  Gratus.  1 
thought  I  had  killed  him.  Ah,  what  horror  I  felt  I" 

"  Where  was  thy  mother  2" 

"  In  her  chamber  below." 

"  What  became  of  her  2" 

Ben-Hur  clenched  his  hands,  and  drew  a  breath  like  a 
gasp. 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  saw  them  drag  her  away — that  is 
all  I  know.  Out  of  the  house  they  drove  every  living 
thing,  even  the  dumb  cattle,  and  they  scaled  the  gates. 
The  purpose  was  that  she  should  not  return.  I,  too,  ask 
for  her.  Oh  for  one  word  !  She,  at  least,  was  innocent. 


150  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

I  can  forgive — but  I  pray  thy  pardon,  noble  tribune  !  A 
slave  like  me  should  not  talk  of  forgiveness  or  of  revenge. 
I  am  bound  to  an  oar  for  life." 

Arrius  listened  intently.  lie  brought  all  his  experience 
with  slaves  to  his  aid.  If  the  feeling  shown  in  this  in 
stance  were  assumed,  the  acting  was  perfect ;  on  the  other 
hand,  if  it  were  real,  the  Jew's  innocence  might  not  be 
doubted ;  and  if  he  were  innocent,  with  what  blind  fury 
the  power  had  been  exercised  !  A  whole  family  blotted 
out  to  atone  an  accident !  The  thought  shocked  him. 

There  is  no  wiser  providence  than  that  our  occupations, 
however  rude  or  bloody,  cannot  wear  us  out  morally  ;  that 
such  qualities  as  ]iistice  and  mercy^  if  they  really  possess 
us,  continue  to  live  on  under  thcm?  like  flowers  under  the 
snovvT The  tribune  could  be  inexorable,  else  he  had  not 
becnnt  for  the  usages  of  his  calling  ;  he  could  also  be  just ; 
and  to  excite  his  sense  of  wrong  was  to  put  him  in  the  way 
to  right  the  wrong.  The  crews  of  the  ships  in  which  he 
served  came  after  a  time  to  speak  of  him  as  the  good  trib 
une.  Shrewd  readers  will  not  want  a  better  definition  of 
his  character. 

In  this  instance  there  were  many  circumstances  certainly 
in  the  young  man's  favor,  and  some  to  be  supposed.  Pos 
sibly  Arrius  knew  Valerius  Gratus  without  loving  him. 
Possibly  he  had  known  the  elder  Ilur.  In  the  course  of 
his  appeal,  Judah  had  asked  him  of  that ;  and,  as  will  be 
noticed,  he  had  made  no  reply. 

For  once  the  tribune  was  at  loss,  and  hesitated.  His 
power  was  ample.  He  was  monarch  of  the  ship.  His 
prepossessions  all  moved  him  to  mercy.  His  faith  was 
won.  Yet,  he  said  to  himself,  there  was  no  haste — or, 
rather,  there  was  haste  to  Cythera ;  the  best  rower  could 
not  then  be  spared  ;  he  would  wait ;  he  would  learn  more  ; 
he  would  at  least  be  sure  this  was  the  prince  Ben-Hur, 
and  that  he  was  of  a  right  disposition.  Ordinarily,  slaves 
were  liars. 

"  It  is  enough,"  he  said  aloud.     "  Go  back  to  thy  place." 

Ben-Hur  bowed  ;  looked  once  more  into  the  master's 
face,  but  saw  nothing  for  hope.  He  turned  away  slowly, 
looked  back,  and  said, 


BEN-BUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  151 

"  If  thou  dost  think  of  me  again,  O  tribune,  let  it  not 
be  lost  in  thy  mind  that  I  prayed  thee  only  for  word  of 
my  people — mother,,  sister." 

He  moved  on. 

Arrius  followed  him  with  admiring  eyes. 

"  Perpol  /"  he  thought.  "  With  teaching,  what  a  man 
for  the  arena  !  What  a  runner  !  Ye  gods  !  what  an  arm 
for  the  sword  or  the  cestus  ! — Stay  !"  he  said  aloud. 

Ben-IIur  stopped,  and  the  tribune  went  to  him. 

"  If  thou  wert  free,  what  wouldst  thou  do  ?" 

"  The  noble  Arrius  mocks  me  !"  Judah  said,  with  trem 
bling  lips. 

"  No ;  by  the  gods,  no !" 

"  Then  I  will  answer  gladly.  I  would  give  myself  to 
duty  the  first  of  life.  I  would  know  no  other.  I  would 
know  no  rest  until  my  mother  and  Tirzah  were  restored 
to  home.  I  would  give  every  day  and  hour  to  their  hap 
piness.  I  would  wait  upon  them  ;  never  a  slave  more 
faithful.  They  have  lost  much,  but,  by  the  God  of  my 
fathers,  I  would  find  them  more  !" 

The  answer  was  unexpected  by  the  Roman.  For  a  mo 
ment  he  lost  his  purpose. 

"  I  spoke  to  thy  ambition,"  he  said,  recovering.  "  If 
thy  mother  and  sister  were  dead,  or  not  to  be  found,  what 
wouldst  thou  do  ?" 

A  distinct  pallor  overspread  Ben-IIur's  face,  and  he 
looked  over  the  sea.  There  was  a  struggle  with  some 
strong  feeling ;  when  it  was  conquered,  he  turned  to  the 
tribune. 

"  What  pursuit  would  I  follow  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  Tribune,  I  will  tell  thce  truly.  Only  the  night  before 
the  dreadful  day  of  which  I  have  spoken,  I  obtained  per 
mission  to  be  a  soldier.  I  am  of  the  same  mind  yet ;  and, 
as  in  all  the  earth  there  is  but  one  school  of  war,  thither  I 
would  go." 

"  The  pahestra  !"  exclaimed  Arrius. 

"  No  ;  a  Roman  camp." 

"  But  thou  must  first  acquaint  thyself  with  the  use  of 
arms." 


152  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

Now  a  master  may  never  safely  advise  a  slave.  Arrius 
saw  his  indiscretion,  and,  in  a  breath,  chilled  his  voice  and 
manner. 

"  Go  now,"  he  said,  "  and  do  not  build  upon  what  has 
passed  between  us.  Perhaps  I  do  but  play  with  thee. 
Or" — he  looked  away  musingly — "  or,  if  thou  dost  think 
of  it  with  any  hope,  choose  between  the  renown  of  a  glad 
iator  and  the  service  of  a  soldier.  The  former  may  come 
of  the  favor  of  the  emperor ;  there  is  no  reward  for  thee 
in  the  latter.  Thou  art  not  a  Roman.  Go  !" 

A  short  while  after  Ben-IIur  was  upon  his  bench  again. 

A  man's  task  is  always  light  if  his  heart  is  light.  Hand 
ling  the  oar  did  not  seem  so  toilsome  to  Judah.  A  hope 
had  come  to  him,  like  a  singing  bird.  He  could  hardly  see 
the  visitor  or  hear  its  song ;  that  it  was  there,  though,  he 
knew ;  his  feelings  told  him  so.  The  caution  of  the  trib 
une — "  Perhaps  I  do  but  play  with  thee" — was  dismissed 
often  as  it  recurred  to  his  mind.  That  he  had  been  called 
by  the  great  man  and  asked  his  story  was  the  bread  upon 
which  he  fed  his  hungry  spirit.  Surely  something  good 
would  come  of  it.  The  light  about  his  bench  was  clear 
and  bright  with  promises,  and  he  prayed. 

"  O  God  !  I  am  a  true  son  of  the  Israel  thou  hast  so 
loved  !  Help  me,  I  pray  thee  !" 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN  the  Bay  of  Antemona,  east  of  Cythera  the  island,  the 
hundred  galleys  assembled.  There  the  tribune  gave  one 
day  to  inspection.  He  sailed  then  to  Naxos,  the  largest 
of  the  Cyclades,  midway  the  coasts  of  Greece  and  Asia, 
like  a  great  stone  planted  in  the  centre  of  a  highway,  from 
which  he  could  challenge  everything  that  passed ;  at  the 
same  time,  he  would  be  in  position  to  go  after  the  pirates 
instantly,  whether  they  were  in  the  ^Egean  or  out  on  the 
Mediterranean. 

As  the  fleet,  in  order,  rowed  in  towards  the  mountain 
shores  of  the  island,  a  galley  was  descried  coming  from 


BEX-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  153 

the  north.  Arrius  went  to  meet  it,  she  proved  to  be  a 
transport  just  from  Byzantium,  and  from  her  commander 
he  learned  the  particulars  of  which  he  stood  in  most  need. 

The  pirates  were  from  all  the  farther  shores  of  the  Eux- 
ine.  Even  Tanais,  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  which  was 
supposed  to  feed  Palus  Myeotis,  was  represented  among 
them.  Their  preparations  had  been  with  the  greatest  se 
crecy.  The  first  known  of  them  was  their  appearance  off 
the  entrance  to  the  Thracian  Bosphorus,  followed  by  the 
destruction  of  the  fleet  in  station  there.  Thence  to  the 
outlet  of  the  Hellespont  everything  afloat  had  fallen  their 
prey.  There  were  quite  sixty  galleys  in  the  squadron,  all 
well  manned  and  supplied.  A  few  were  biremes,  the  rest 
stout  triremes.  A  Greek  was  in  command,  and  the  pilots, 
said  to  be  familiar  with  all  the  Eastern  seas,  were  Greek. 
The  plunder  had  been  incalculable.  The  panic,  conse 
quently,  was  riot  on  the  sea  alone ;  cities,  with  closed 
gates,  sent  their  people  nightly  to  the  walls.  Traffic  had 
almost  ceased. 

Where  were  the  pirates  now  ? 

To  this  question,  of  most  interest  to  Arrius,  he  received 
answer. 

After  sacking  Ilephajstia,  on  the  island  of  Lcmnos,  the  en 
emy  had  coursed  across  to  the  Thessalian  group,  and,  by  last 
account,  disappeared  in  the  gulfs  between  Euboea  and  Hellas. 

Such  were  the  tidings. 

Then  the  people  of  the  island,  drawn  to  the  hill-tops  by 
the  rare  spectacle  of  a  hundred  ships  careering  in  united 
squadron,  beheld  the  advance  division  suddenly  turn  to  the 
north,  and  the  others  follow,  wheeling  upon  the  same  point 
like  cavalry  in  a  column.  News  of  the  piratical  descent 
had  reached  them,  and  now,  watching  the  white  sails  until 
they  faded  from  sight  up  between  Rhene  and  Syros,  the 
thoughtful  among  them  took  comfort,  and  were  grateful. 
What  Rome  seized  with  strong  hand  she  always  defended  : 
in  return  for  their  taxes,  she  gave  them  safety. 

The  tribune  was  more  than  pleased  with  the  enemy's 
movements  ;  he  was  doubly  thankful  to  Fortune.  She  had 
brought  swift  and  sure  intelligence,  and  had  lured  his  foes 
into  the  waters  where,  of  all  others,  destruction  was  most 


154  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

assured.  He  knew  the  havoc  one  galley  could  play  in  a 
broad  sea  like  the  Mediterranean,  and  the  difficulty  of  rind 
ing  and  overhauling  her ;  he  knew,  also,  how  those  very 
circumstances  would  enhance  the  service  and  glory  if,  at 
one  blow,  he  could  put  a  finish  to  the  whole  piratical  array. 

If  the  reader  will  take  a  map  of  Greece  and  the  ^Egean, 
he  will  notice  the  island  of  Eubcea  lying  along  the  classic 
coast  like  a  rampart  against  Asia,  leaving  a  channel  be 
tween  it  and  the  continent  quite  a  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  in  length,  and  scarcely  an  average  of  eight  in  width. 
The  inlet  on  the  north  had  admitted  the  fleet  of  Xerxes, 
and  now  it  received  the  bold  raiders  from  the  Euxine.  The 
towns  along  the  Pelasgic  and  Meliac  gulfs  were  rich  and 
their  plunder  seductive.  All  things  considered,  therefore, 
Arrius  judged  that  the  robbers  might  be  found  somewhere 
below  Thermopylae.  Welcoming  the  chance,  he  resolved 
to  enclose  them  north  and  south,  to  do  which  not  an  hour 
could  be  lost ;  even  the  fruits  and  wines  and  women  of 
Naxos  must  be  left  behind.  So  he  sailed  away  without 
stop  or  tack  until,  a  little  before  nightfall,  Mount  Ocha 
was  seen  upreared  against  the  sky,  and  the  pilot  reported 
the  Euboean  coast. 

At  a  signal  the  fleet  rested  upon  its  oars.  When  the 
movement  was  resumed,  Arrius  led  a  division  of  fifty  of 
the  galleys,  intending  to  take  them  up  the  channel,  while 
another  division,  equally  strong,  turned  their  prows  to  the 
outer  or  seaward  side  of  the  island,  with  orders  to  make 
all  haste  to  the  upper  inlet,  and  descend  sweeping  the 
waters. 

To  be  sure,  neither  division  was  equal  in  number  to  the 
pirates  ;  but  each  had  advantages  in  compensation,  among 
them,  by  no  means  least,  a  discipline  impossible  to  a  law 
less  horde,  however  brave.  Besides,  it  was  a  shrewd  count 
on  the  tribune's  side,  if,  peradventure,  one  should  be  de 
feated,  the  other  would  find  the  enemy  shattered  by  his 
victory,  and  in  condition  to  be  easily  overwhelmed. 

Meantime  Ben-IIur  kept  his  bench,  relieved  every  six 
hours.  The  rest  in  the  Bay  of  Antemona  had  freshened 
him,  so  that  the  oar  was  not  troublesome,  and  the  chief  on 
the  platform  found  no  fault. 


BEN-HUB:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  155 

People,  generally,  are  not  aware  of  the  ease  of  mind 
there  is  in  knowing  where  they  arc,  and  where  they  are  go 
ing.  The  sensation  of  being  lost  is  a  keen  distress ;  still 
worse  is  the  feeling  one  has  in  driving  blindly  into  un 
known  places.  Custom  had  dulled  the  feeling  with  Ben- 
Ilur,  but  only  measurably.  Pulling  away  hour  after  hour, 
sometimes  days  and  nights  together,  sensible  all  the  time 
that  the  galley  was  gliding  swiftly  along  some  of  the  many 
tracks  of  the  broad  sea,  the  longing  to  know  where  he  was, 
and  whither  going,  was  always  present  with  him  ;  but  now 
it  seemed  quickened  by  the  hope  which  had  come  to  new 
life  in  his  breast  since  the  interview  with  the  tribune.  The 
narrower  the  abiding-place  happens  to  be,  the  more  intense 
is  the  longing ;  and  so  he  found,  lie  seemed  to  heal 
every  sound  of  the  ship  in  labor,  and  listened  to  each  one 
as  if  it  were  a  voice  come  to  tell  him  something  ;  he  looked 
to  the  grating  overhead,  and  through  it  into  the  light  of 
which  so  small  a  portion  was  his,  expecting,  he  knew  not 
what ;  and  many  times  he  caught  himself  on  the  point  of 
yielding  to  the  impulse  to  speak  to  the  chief  on  the  plat 
form,  than  which  no  circumstance  of  battle  would  have  as 
tonished  that  dignitary  more. 

In  his  long  service,  by  watching  the  shifting  of  the  mea 
gre  sunbeams  upon  the  cabin  floor  when  the  ship  was  un 
der  way,  he  had  come  to  know,  generally,  the  quarter  into 
which  she  was  sailing.  This,  of  course,  was  only  of  clear 
days  like  those  good -fortune,  was  sending  the  tribune. 
The  experience  had  not  failed  him  in  the  period  succeed 
ing  the  departure  from  Cythera.  Thinking  they  were 
tending  towards  the  old  Judean  country,  he  was  sensitive 
to  every  variation  from  the  course.  "With  a  pang,  he  had 
observed  the  sudden  change  northward  which,  as  has  been 
noticed,  took  place  near  Naxos :  the  cause,  however,  he 
could  not  even  conjecture ;  for  it  must  be  remembered 
that,  in  common  with  his  fellow-slaves,  he  knew  nothing  of 
the  situation,  and  had  no  interest  in  the  voyage.  His 
place  was  at  the  oar,  and  he  was  held  there  inexorably, 
whether  at  anchor  or  under  sail.  Once  only  in  three  years 
had  he  been  permitted  an  outlook  from  the  deck.  The 
occasion  we  have  seen.  He  had  no  idea  that,  following 


156  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

the  vessel  he  was  helping  drive,  there  was  a  great  squadron 
close  at  hand  and  in  beautiful  order ;  no  more  did  he  know 
the  object  of  which  it  was  in  pursuit. 

When  the  sun,  going  down,  withdrew  his  last  ray  from 
the  cabin,  the  galley  still  held  northward.  Night  fell,  yet 
Bcn-Hur  could  discern  no  change.  About  that  time  the 
smell  of  incense  floated  down  the  gangways  from  the  deck. 

"  The  tribune  is  at  the  altar,"  he  thought.  "  Can  it  be 
we  are  going  into  battle  ?" 

He  became  observant. 

Now  he  had  been  in  many  battles  without  having  seen 
one.  From  his  bench  he  had  heard  them  above  and  about 
him,  until  he  was  familiar  with  all  their  notes,  almost  as 
a  singer  with  a  song.  So,  too,  he  had  become  acquainted 
with  many  of  the  preliminaries  of  an  engagement,  of 
which,  with  a  Roman  as  well  as  a  Greek,  the  most  invariable 
was  the  sacrifice  to  the  gods.  The  rites  were  the  same  as 
those  performed  at  the  beginning  of  a  voyage,  and  to  him, 
when  noticed,  they  were  always  an  admonition. 

A  battle,  it  should  be  observed,  possessed  for  him  and 
his  fellow-slaves  of  the  oar  an  interest  unlike  that  of  the 
sailor  and  marine  ;  it  came,  not  of  the  danger  encountered 
but  of  the  fact  that  defeat,  if  survived,  might  bring  an  al 
teration  of  condition — possibly  freedom — at  least  a  change 
of  masters,  which  might  be  for  the  better. 

In  good  time  the  lanterns  were  lighted  and  hung  by  the 
stairs,  and  the  tribune  came  down  from  the  deck.  At  his 
word  the  marines  put  on  their  armor.  At  his  word  again, 
the  machines  were  looked  to,  and  spears,  javelins,  and  ar 
rows,  in  great  sheaves,  brought  and  laid  upon  the  floor,  to 
gether  with  jars  of  inflammable  oil,  and  baskets  of  cotton 
balls  wound  loose  like  the  wicking  of  candles.  And  when, 
finally,  Ben-Hur  saw  the  tribune  mount  his  platform  and 
don  his  armor,  and  get  his  helmet  and  shield  out,  the 
meaning  of  the  preparations  might  not  be  any  longer 
doubted,  and  he  made  ready  for  the  last  ignominy  of  his 
service. 

To  every  bench,  as  a  fixture^  there  was  a  chain  with 
heavy  anklets.  These  the  hortator  proceeded  to  lock  upon 
the  oarsmen,  going  from  number  to  number,  leaving  no 


BEX-HUB.:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  157 

choice  but  to  obey,  and,  in  event  of  disaster,  no  possibility 
of  escape. 

In  the  cabin,  then,  a  silence  fell,  broken,  at  first,  only  by 
the  sough  of  the  oars  turning  in  the  leathern  cases.  Every 
man  upon  the  benches  felt  the  shame,  Bcn-IIur  more  keen 
ly  than  his  companions.  He  would  have  put  it  away  at 
any  price.  Soon  the  clanking  of  the  fetters  notified  him 
of  the  progress  the  chief  was  making  in  his  round.  He 
would  come  to  him  in  turn  ;  but  would  not  the  tribune  in 
terpose  for  him  ? 

The  thought  may  be  set  down  to  vanity  or  selfishness, 
as  the  reader  pleases  ;  it  certainly,  at  that  moment,  took 
possession  of  Ben-Hnr.  He  believed  the  Roman  would  in 
terpose  ;  anyhow,  the  circumstance  would  test  the  man's 
feelings.  If,  intent  upon  the  battle,  he  would  but  think  of 
him,  it  would  be  proof  of  his  opinion  formed — proof  that 
he  had  been  tacitly  promoted  above  his  associates  in  mis 
ery — such  proof  as  would  justify  hope. 

Ben-IIur  waited  anxiously.  The  interval  seemed  like 
an  age.  At  every  turn  of  the  oar  he  looked  towards  the 
tribune,  who,  his  simple  preparations  made,  lay  down  upon 
the  couch  and  composed  himself  to  rest ;  whereupon  num 
ber  sixty  chid  himself,  and  laughed  grimly,  and  resolved 
not  to  look  that  way  again. 

The  hortator  approached.  Now  lie  was  at  number  one 
— the  rattle  of  the  iron  links  sounded  horribly.  At  last 
number  sixty !  Calm  from  despair,  Ben-Hur  held  his  oar 
at  poise,  and  gave  his  foot  to  the  officer.  Then  the  tribune 
stirred — sat  up — beckoned  to  the  chief. 

A  strong  revulsion  seized  the  Jew.  From  the  hortator, 
the  great  man  glanced  at  him ;  and  when  he  dropped  his 
oar  all  the  section  of  the  ship  on  his  side  seemed  aglow. 
He  heard  nothing  of  what  was  said  ;  enough  that  the  chain 
hung  idly  from  its  staple  in  the  bench,  and  that  the  chief, 
going  to  his  seat,  began  to  beat  the  sounding-board.  The 
notes  of  the  gavel  were  never  so  like  music.  With  his 
breast  against  the  leaded  handle,  he  pushed  with  all  his 
might — pushed  until  the  shaft  bent  as  if  about  to  break. 

The  chief  went  to  the  tribune,  and,  smiling,  pointed  to 
number  sixty. 


158  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  What  strength  !"  he  said. 

"  And  what  spirit !"  the  tribune  answered.  "  Perpol ! 
He  is  better  without  the  irons.  Put  them  on  him  no 
more." 

So  saying,  he  stretched  himself  upon  the  couch  again. 

The  ship  sailed  on  hour  after  hour  under  the  oars  in  wa 
ter  scarcely  rippled  by  the  wind.  And  the  people  not  on 
duty  slept,  Arrius  in  his  place,  the  marines  on  the  floor. 

Once — twice — Ben-IIur  was  relieved ;  but  he  could  not 
sleep.  Three  years  of  night,  and  through  the  darkness  a 
sunbeam  at  last !  At  sea  adrift  and  lost,  and  now  land  ! 
Dead  so  long,  and  lo  !  the  thrill  and  stir  of  resurrection. 
Sleep  was  not  for  such  an  hour.  Hope  deals  with  the  fut- 
ure  i_now  and  jjie^  past  are  but  servants  that  wait  on  her 
\villi  impulse  and  suggestive  circumstance.  Starting  from 
the  favor  of  the  tribune,  she  carried  him  forward  indefi 
nitely.  The  wonder  ia,  not  that  things  so  purely  imagina 
tive  as  the  results  she  points  us  to  can  make  us  so  happy, 
but  that  we  can  receive  them  as  so  real.  They  must  be  as 
gorgeous  poppies  under  the  influence  of  which,  tinder  the 
crimson  and  purple  and  gold,  reason  lies  down  the  while, 
and  is  not._  Sorrows  assuaged  ;  home  and  the  fortunes  of 
his  house  restored ;  mother  and  sister  in  his  arms  once 
more — such  were  the  central  ideas  which  made  him  hap 
pier  that  moment  than  he  had  ever  been.  That  he  was 
rushing,  as  on  wings,  into  horrible  battle  had,  for  the  time, 
nothing  to  do  with  his  thoughts.  The  things  thus  in  hope 
were  unmixed  with  doubts — they  were.  Hence  his  joy  so 
full,  so  perfect,  there  was  no  room  in  his  heart  for  revenge. 
Messala,  Gratus,  Rome,  and  all  the  bitter,  passionate  mem 
ories  connected  with  them,  were  as  dead  plagues — miasms 
of  the  earth  above  which  he  floated,  far  and  safe,  listening 
to  singing  stars. 

The  deeper  darkness  before  the  dawn  was  upon  the  wa 
ters,  and  all  things  going  Avell  with  the  Astrcea,  when  a 
man,  descending  from  the  deck,  walked  swiftly  to  the  plat 
form  where  the  tribune  slept,  and  awoke  him.  Arrius 
arose,  put  on  his  helmet,  sword,  and  shield,  and  went  to 
the  commander  of  the  marines. 

"  The  pirates  are  close  by.     Up  and  ready  !"  he  said, 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CIIRIST.  159 

and  passed  to  the  stairs,  calm,  confident,  insomuch  that 
one  might  have  thought,  "  Happy  fellow  !  Apicius  has  set 
a  feast  for  him." 


CHAPTER  V. 

EVERY  soul  aboard,  even  the  ship,  awoke.  Officers  went 
to  their  quarters.  The  marines  took  arms,  and  were  led 
out,  looking  in  all  respects  like  legionaries.  Sheaves  of  ar 
rows  and  armfuls  of  javelins  were  carried  on  deck.  By 
the  central  stairs  the  oil-tanks  and  fire-balls  were  set  ready 
for  use.  Additional  lanterns  were  lighted.  Buckets  were 
filled  with  water.  The  rowers  in  relief  assembled  under 
guard  in  front  of  the  chief.  As  Providence  would  have  it, 
Ben-Hur  was  one  of  the  latter.  Overhead  he  heard  the 
muffled  noise  of  the  final  preparations — of  the  sailors  furl 
ing  sail,  spreading  the  nettings,  unslinging  the  machines, 
and  hanging  the  armor  of  bull-hide  over  the  side.  Pres 
ently  quiet  settled  about  the  galley  again ;  quite  full  of 
vague  dread  and  expectation,  which,  interpreted,  means 
ready. 

At  a  signal  passed  down  from  the  deck,  and  communi 
cated  to  the  hortator  by  a  petty  officer  stationed  on  the 
stairs,  all  at  once  the  oars  stopped. 

What  did  it  mean  ? 

Of  the  hundred  and  twenty  slaves  chained  to  the  benches, 
hot  one  but  asked  himself  the  question.  They  were  with 
out  incentive.  Patriotism,  love  of  honor,  sense  of  duty, 
brought  them  no  inspiration.  They  felt  the  thrill  common 
to  men  rushed  helpless  and  blind  into  danger.  It  may  be 
supposed  the  dullest  of  them,  poising  his  oar,  thought  of  all 
that  might  happen,  yet  could  promise  himself  nothing  ;  for 
victory  would  but  rivet  his  chains  the  firmer,  while  the 
chances  of  the  ship  were  his ;  sinking  or  on  fire,  he  was 
doomed  to  her  fate. 

Of  the  situation  without  they  might  not  ask.  And  who 
were  the  enemy  ?  And  what  if  they  were  friends,  brethren, 
countrymen  ?  The  reader,  carrying  the  suggestion  forward, 
Avill  see  the  necessity  which  governed  the  Roman  when,  iii 


160  BEX-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

such  emergencies,  lie  locked  tlie  hapless  wretches  to  their 
seats. 

There  was  little  time,  however,  for  such  thought  with  them. 
A  sound  like  the  rowing  of  galleys  astern  attracted  Ben- 
Ilur,  and  the  Astrcea  rocked  as  if  in  the  midst  of  counter 
ing  waves.  The  idea  of  a  fleet  at  hand  broke  upon  him — a 
fleet  in  manoeuvre — forming  probably  for  attack.  His  blood 
started  with  the  fancy.  y 

Another  signal  order  came  down  from  deck.  The  oars 
dipped,  and  the  galley  started  imperceptibly.  No  sound 
from  without,  none  from  within,  yet  each  man  in  the  cabin 
instinctively  poised  himself  for  a  shock ;  the  very  ship 
seemed  to  catch  the  sense,  and  hold  its  breath,  and  go 
crouched  tiger-like. 

In  such  a  situation  time  is  inappreciable ;  so  that  Ben- 
Hur  could  form  no  judgment  of  distance  gone.  At  last 
there  was  a  sound  of  trumpets  on  deck,  full,  clear,  long 
blown.  The  chief  beat  the  sounding-board  until  it  rang ; 
the  rowers  reached  forward  full  length,  and,  deepening  the 
dip  of  their  oars,  pulled  suddenly  with  all  their  united  force. 
The  galley,  quivering  in  every  timber,  answered  with  a  leap. 
Other  trumpets  joined  in  the  clamor — all  from  the  rear, 
none  forward — from  the  latter  quarter  only  a  rising  sound 
of  voices  in  tumult  heard  briefly.  There  was  a  mighty  blow  ; 
the  rowers  in  front  of  the  chief's  platform  reeled,  some 
of  them  fell ;  the  ship  bounded  back,  recovered,  and  rushed 
on  more  irresistibly  than  before.  Shrill  and  high  arose 
the  shrieks  of  men  in  terror  ;  over  the  blare  of  trumpets,  and 
the  grind  and  crash  of  the  collision,  they  arose  ;  then  under 
his  feet,  under  the  keel,  pounding,  rumbling,  breaking  to 
pieces,  drowning,  Ben-IIur  felt  something  overridden.  The 
men  about  him  looked  at  each  other  afraid.  A  shout  of  tri 
umph  from  the  deck — the  beak  of  the  Roman  had  won ! 
But  who  were  they  whom  the  sea  had  drunk  ?  Of  what 
tongue,  from  what  land  were  they  ? 

No  pause,  no  stay  !  Forward  rushed  the  Astrcea  ;  and, 
as  it  went,  some  sailors  ran  down,  and,  plunging  the  cotton 
balls  into  the  oil-tanks,  tossed  them  dripping  to  comrades 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs :  fire  was  to  be  added  to  other  hor 
rors  of  the  combat. 


BEX-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  101 

Directly  the  galley  heeled  over  so  far  that  the  oarsmen 
on  the  uppermost  side  with  difficulty  kept  their  benches. 
Again  the  hearty  Roman  cheer,  and  with  it  despairing 
shrieks.  An  opposing  vessel,  caught  by  the  grappling-hooks 
of  the  great  crane  swinging  from  the  prow,  was  being  lifted 
into  the  air  that  it  might  be  dropped  and  sunk. 

The  shouting  increased  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left ; 
before,  behind,  swelled  an  indescribable  clamor.  Occasion 
ally  there  was  a  crash,  followed  by  sudden  peals  of  fright, 
telling  of  other  ships  ridden  down,  and  their  crews  drowned 
in  the  vortexes. 

Nor  was  the  fight  all  on  one  side.  Now  and  then  a 
Roman  in  armor  was  borne  down  the  hatchway,  and  laid 
bleeding,  sometimes  dying,  on  the  floor. 

Sometimes,  also,  puffs  of  smoke,  blended  with  steam,  and 
foul  with  the  scent  of  roasting  human  flesh,  poured  into  the 
cabin,  turning  the  dimming  light  into  yellow  murk.  Gasp 
ing  for  breath  the  while,  Ben-Hur  knew  they  were  passing 
through  the  cloud  of  a  ship  on  fire,  and  burning  up  with 
the  rowers  chained  to  the  benches. 

The  Astrcea  all  this  time  was  in  motion.  Suddenly  she 
stopped.  The  oars  forward  were  dashed  from  the  hands  of 
the  rowers,  and  the  rowers  from  their  benches.  On  deck, 
then,  a  furious  trampling,  and  on  the  sides  a  grinding  of 
ships  afoul  of  each  other.  For  the  first  time  the  beating  of 
the  gavel  was  lost  in  the  uproar.  Men  sank  on  the  floor  in 
fear  or  looked  about  seeking  a  hiding-place.  In  the  midst 
of  the  panic  a  body  plunged  or  was  pitched  headlong  down 
the  hatchway,  falling  near  Ben-Hur.  He  beheld  the  half- 
naked  carcass,  a  mass  of  hair  blackening  the  face,  and  undei 
it  a  shield  of  bull-hide  and  wicker-work — a  barbarian  from 
the  white-skinned  nations  of  the  North  whom  death  had 
robbed  of  plunder  and  revenge.  How  came  he  there  ?  An 
iron  hand  had  snatched  him  from  the  opposing  deck — no, 
the  Astrcea  had  been  boarded  !  The  Romans  were  fighting 
on  their  own  deck?  A  chill  smote  the  young  Jew  :  Arrius 
was  hard  pressed — he  might  be  defending  his  own  life.  If 
he  should  be  slain  !  God  of  Abraham  forefend !  The  hopes 
and  dreams  so  lately  come,  were  they  only  hopes  and 
dreams  ?  Mother  and  sister — house — home — Holy  Land — 
11 


162  BEN-HUB:    A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

was  lie  not  to  see  them,  after  all  ?  The  tumult  thundered 
above  him  ;  he  looked  around ;  in  the  cabin  all  was  con 
fusion — the  rowers  on  the  benches  paralyzed  ;  men  running 
blindly  hither  and  thither ;  only  the  chief  on  his  seat  imper 
turbable,  vainly  beating  the  sounding-board,  and  waiting 
the  order  of  the  tribune — in  the  red  murk  illustrating  the 
matchless  discipline  which  had  won  the  world. 

The  example  had  a  good  effect  upon  Ben-IIur.  He  con 
trolled  himself  enough  to  think.  Honor  and  duty  bound 
the  Roman  to  the  platform ;  but  what  had  he  to  do  with 
such  motives  then  ?  The  bench  was  a  thing  to  run  from  ; 
while,  if  he  were  to  die  a  slave,  who  would  be  the  better  of 
the  sacrifice  ?  With  him  living  was  duty,  if  not  honor. 
His  life  belonged  to  his  people.  They  arose  before  him 
never  more  real :  he  saw  them,  their  arms  outstretched  ;  he 
heard  them  imploring  him.  And  he  would  go  to  them.  He 
started — stopped.  Alas  !  a  Roman  judgment  held  him  in 
doom.  While  it  endured,  escape  would  be  profitless.  In 
the  wide,  wide  earth  there  was  no  place  in  which  he  would 
be  safe  from  the  imperial  demand  ;  upon  the  land  none,  nor 
upon  the  sea.  Whereas  he  required  freedom  according  to 
the  forms  of  law,  so  only  could  he  abide  in  Judea  and  ex 
ecute  the  filial  purpose  to  which  he  would  devote  himself: 
in  other  land  he  would  not  live.  Dear  God  !  How  he  had 
waited  and  watched  and  prayed  for  such  a  release  !  And 
how  it  had  been  delayed  !  But  at  last  he  had  seen  it  in  the 
promise  of  the  tribune.  What  else  the  great  man's  mean 
ing  ?  And  if  the  benefactor  so  belated  should  now  be  slain  ! 
The  dead  come  not  back  to  redeem  the  pledges  of  the  living. 
It  should  not  be — Arrius  should  not  die.  At  least,  better 
perish  with  him  than  survive  a  galley-slave. 

Once  more  Ben-IIur  looked  around.  Upon  the  roof  of 
the  cabin  the  battle  yet  beat ;  against  the  sides  the  hostile 
vessels  yet  crushed  and  grided.  On  the  benches,  the  slaves 
struggled  to  tear  loose  from  their  chains,  and,  finding  their 
efforts  vain,  howled  like  madmen  ;  the  guards  had  gone  up 
stairs  ;  discipline  was  out,  panic  in.  No,  the  chief  kept  his 
chair,  unchanged,  calm  as  ever — except  the  gavel,  weapon 
less.  Vainly  with  his  clangor  he  filled  the  lulls  in  the  din. 
Ben-IIur  gave  him  a  last  look,  then  broke  away — not  in 
flight,  but  to  seek  the  tribune. 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  163 

A  very  short  space  lay  between  him  and  the  stairs  of  the 
hatchway  aft.  He  took  it  with  a  leap,  and  was  half-way 
up  the  steps — up  far  enough  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  sky 
blood-red  with  lire,  of  the  ships  alongside,  of  the  sea  cov 
ered  with  ships  and  wrecks,  of  the  fight  closed  in  about  the 
pilot's  quarter,  the  assailants  many,  the  defenders  few — 
when  suddenly  his  foothold  was  knocked  away,  and  he 
pitched  backward.  The  floor,  when  he  reached  it,  seemed 
to  be  lifting  itself  and  breaking  to  pieces  ;  then,  in  a  twin 
kling,  the  whole  after-part  of  the  hull  broke  asunder,  and,  as 
if  it  had  all  the  time  been  lying  in  wait,  the  sea,  hissing 
and  foaming,  leaped  in,  and  all  became  darkness  and  surg 
ing  water  to  Ben-Hur. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  the  young  Jew  helped  himself  in 
this  stress.  Besides  his  usual  strength,  he  had  the  indeiv- 
nite_extra  force  which  nature  keeps  in  reserve  for  just  such 
perils  to  lifej^  yet  the  darkness,  and  the  whirl  and  roar  of 
water,  stupefied  him.  Even  the  holding  his  breath  was  in 
voluntary. 

The  influx  of  the  flood  tossed  him  like  a  log  forward 
into  the  cabin,  where  he  would  have  drowned  but  for  the 
refluence  of  the  sinking  motion.  As  it  was,  fathoms  under 
the  surface  the  hollow  mass  vomited  him  forth,  and  he 
arose  along  with  the  loosed  debris.  In  the  act  of  rising, 
he  clutched  something,  and  held  to  it.  The  time  he  was 
under  seemed  an  age  longer  than  it  really  was ;  at  last  he 
gained  the  top  ;  with  a  great  gasp  he  filled  his  lungs  afresh, 
and,  tossing  the  water  from  his  hair  and  eyes,  climbed 
higher  upon  the  plank  he  held,  and  looked  about  him. 

Death  had  pursued  him  closely  under  the  waves ;  he 
found  it  waiting  for  him  when  he  was  risen — waiting  mul 
tiform. 

Smoke  lay  upon  the  sea  like  a  semitransparent  fog, 
through  which  here  and  there  shone  cores  of  intense  brill 
iance.  A  quick  intelligence  told  him  that  they  were  ships 
on  fire.  The  battle  was  yet  on ;  nor  could  he  say  who  was 
victor.  Within  the  radius  of  his  vision  now  and  then  ships 
passed,  shooting  shadows  athwart  lights.  Out  of  the  dun 
clouds  farther  on  he  caught  the  crash  of  other  ships  collid 
ing.  The  danger,  however,  was  closer  at  hand.  When  the 


164  BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

Astrcca  went  down,  her  deck,  it  will  be  recollected,  held  her 
own  crew,  and  the  crews  of  the  two  galleys  which  had  at 
tacked  her  at  the  same  time,  all  of  whom  were  ingulfed. 
Many  of  them  came  to  the  surface  together,  and  on  the 
same  plank  or  support  of  whatever  kind  continued  the  com 
bat,  begun  possibly  in  the  vortex  fathoms  down.  Writh 
ing  and  twisting  in  deadly  embrace,  sometimes  striking 
with  sword  or  javelin,  they  kept  the  sea  around  them  in 
agitation,  at  one  place  inky-black,  at  another  aflame  witli 
fiery  reflections.  With  their  struggles  he  had  nothing  to 
do  ;  they  were  all  his  enemies :  not  one  of  them  but  would 
kill  him  for  the  plank  upon  which  he  floated.  He  made 
haste  to  get  away. 

About  that  time  he  heard  oars  in  quickest  movement, 
and  beheld  a  galley  coming  down  upon  him.  The  tall 
prow  seemed  doubly  tall,  and  the  red  light  playing  upon  its 
gilt  and  carving  gave  it  an  appearance  of  snaky  life.  Under 
its  foot  the  water  churned  to  flying  foam. 

He  struck  out,  pushing  the  plank,  which  was  very  broad 
and  unmanageable.  Seconds  were  precious — half  a  second 
might  save  or  lose  him.  In  the  crisis  of  the  effort,  up  from 
the  sea,  within  arm's  reach,  a  helmet  shot  like  a  gleam  of 
gold.  Next  came  two  hands  with  fingers  extended — large 
hands  were  they,  and  strong — their  hold  once  fixed,  might 
not  be  loosed.  Ben-IIur  swerved  from  them  appalled. 
Up  rose  the  helmet  and  the  head  it  encased — then  two 
arms,  which  began  to  beat  the  water  wildly — the  head 
turned  back,  and  gave  the  face  to  the  light.  The  mouth 
gaping  wide ;  the  eyes  open,  but  sightless,  and  the  blood 
less  pallor  of  a.  drowning  man  —  never  anything  more 
ghastly  !  Yet  he  gave  a  cry  of  joy  at  the  sight,  and  as  the 
face  was  going  under  again,  he  caught  the  sufferer  by  the 
chain  which  passed  from  the  helmet  beneath  the  chin,  and 
drew  him  to  the  plank. 

The  man  was  Arrius,  the  tribune. 

For  a  while  the  water  foamed  and  eddied  violently  about 
Ben-Hur,  taxing  all  his  strength  to  hold  to  the  support  and 
at  the  same  time  keep  the  Roman's  head  above  the  surface. 
The  galley  had  passed,  leaving  the  two  barely  outside  the 
stroke  of  its  oars.  Right  through  the  floating  men,  over 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  165 

heads  helmeted  as  well  as  heads  bare,  she  drove,  in  her 
wake  nothing  but  the  sea  sparkling  with  fire.  A  muffled 
crash,  succeeded  by  a  great  outcry,  made  the  rescuer  look 
again  from  his  charge.  A  certain  savage  pleasure  touched 
his  heart — the  Astrcea  was  avenged. 

After  that  the  battle  moved  on.  Resistance  turned  to 
flight.  But  who  were  the  -victors  ?  Ben-Hur  was  sensible 
how  much  his  freedom  and  the  life  of  the  tribune  depended 
upon  that  event.  lie  pushed  the  plank  under  the  latter 
until  it  floated  him,  after  which  all  his  care  was  to  keep 
him  there.  The  dawn  came  slowly.  lie  watched  its  grow 
ing  hopefully,  yet  sometimes  afraid.  Would  it  bring  the 
Romans  or  the  pirates?  If  the  pirates,  his  charge  was 
lost. 

At  last  morning  broke  in  full,  the  air  without  a  breath. 
Off  to  the  left  he  saw  the  land,  too  far  to  think  of  attempt 
ing  to  make  it.  Here  and  there  men  were  adrift  like  him 
self.  In  spots  the  sea  was  blackened  by  charred  and  some 
times  smoking  fragments.  A  galley  up  a  long  way  was 
lying  to  with  a  torn  sail  hanging  from  the  tilted  yard,  and 
the  oars  all  idle.  Still  farther  away  he  could  discern  mov 
ing  specks,  which  he  thought  might  be  ships  in  flight  or 
pursuit,  or  they  might  be  white  birds  a-wing. 

An  hour  passed  thus.  His  anxiety  increased.  If  re 
lief  came  not  speedily,  Arrius  would  die.  Sometimes  he 
seemed  already  dead,  he  lay  so  still.  He  took  the  helmet 
off,  and  then,  with  greater  difficulty,  the  cuirass  ;  the  heart 
he  found  fluttering.  He  took  hope  at  the  sign,  and  held 
on.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  wait,  and,  after  the 
manner  of  his  people,  pray. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

_  are  more  painful 

than  the  drowning.     These  Arrius  passed  through,  and,  at 
length,  to  Ben-Hur's  delight,  reached  the  point  of  speech. 
Gradually,  from  incoherent   questions  as  to  where   he 
was,  and  by  whom  and  how  he  had  been  saved,  he  reverted 
to  the  battle.     The  doubt  of  the  victory  stimulated  his 


IOC  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

faculties  to  full  return,  a  result  aided  not  a  little  by  a  long 
rest — such  as  could  be  had  on  their  frail  support.  After 
a  while  he  became  talkative. 

"  Our  rescue,  I  see,  depends  upon  the  result  of  the  fight. 
I  see  also  what  thou  hast  done  for  me.  To  speak  fairly, 
thou  hast  saved  my  life  at  the  risk  of  thy  own.  I  make  the 
acknowledgment  broadly  ;  and,  whatever  cometh,  thou  hast 
my  thanks.  More  than  that,  if  fortune  doth  but  serve  me 
kindly,  and  we  get  Avell  out  of  this  peril,  I  will  do  thee  such 
favor  as  becometh  a  Roman  who  hath  power  and  opportu 
nity  to  prove  his  gratitude.  Yet,  yet  it  is  to  be  seen  if, 
with  thy  good  intent,  thou  hast  really  done  me  a  kindness  ; 
or,  rather,  speaking  to  thy  good-will " — he  hesitated — "  I 
would  exact  of  thee  a  promise  to  do  me,  in  a  certain  event, 
the  greatest  favor  one  man  can  do  another — and  of  that  let 
me  have  thy  pledge  now." 

"  If  the  thing  be  not  forbidden,  I  will  do  it,"  Ben-Hur 
replied. 

Arrius  rested  again. 

"Art  thou,  indeed,  a  son  of  Hur,  the  Jew?"  he  next 
asked. 

"  It  is  as  I  have  said." 

"  I  knew  thy  father—" 

Judah  drew  himself  nearer,  for  the  tribune's  voice  was 
weak — he  drew  nearer,  and  listened  eagerly — at  last  he 
thought  to  hear  of  home. 

"  I  knew  him,  and  loved  him,"  Arrius  continued. 

There  was  another  pause,  during  which  something 
diverted  the  speaker's  thought. 

"  It  cannot  be,"  he  proceeded,  "that  thou,  a  son  of  his, 
hast  not  heard  of  Cato  and  Brutus.  They  were  very  great 
men,  and  never  as  great  as  in  death.  In  their  dying,  they 
left  this  law — A  Roman  may  not  survive  his  good-fortune. 
Art  thou  listening  ?" 

"  I  hear." 

"  It  is  a  custom  of  gentlemen  in  Rome  to  wear  a  ring. 
There  is  one  on  my  hand.  Take  it  now." 

lie  held  the  hand  to  Judah,  who  did  as  he  asked. 

"  Now  put  it  on  thine  own  hand." 

Ben-Hur  did  so. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  167 

"  The  trinket  hath  its  uses,"  said  Arrius  next.  "  I  liave 
property  and  money.  I  am  accounted  rich  even  in  Rome. 
I  have  no  family.  Show  the  ring  to  my  freedman,  who 
hath  control  in  my  absence ;  you  will  find  him  in  a  villa 
near  Misenum.  Tell  him  how  it  came  to  thee,  and  ask  any 
thing,  or  all  he  may  have  ;  he  will  not  refuse  the  demand. 
If  I  live,  I  will  do  better  by  thee.  I  will  make  thee  free, 
and  restore  thee  to  thy  home  and  people ;  or  thou  mayst 
give  thyself  to  the  pursuit  that  pleaseth  thee  most.  l)ost 
thou  hear !" 

"  I  could  not  choose  but  hear." 

"  Then  pledge  me.     By  the  gods — " 

"  Nay,  good  tribune,  I  am  a  Jew." 

"  By  thy  God,  then,  or  in  the  form  most  sacred  to  those 
of  thy  faith — pledge  me  to  do  what  I  tell  thee  now,  and  as 
I  tell  thee ;  I  am  waiting,  let  me  have  thy  promise." 

"  Noble  Arrius,  I  am  warned  by  thy  manner  to  expect 
something  of  gravest  concern.  Tell  me  thy  wish  first." 

"  Wilt  thou  promise  then  ?" 

"  That  were  to  give  the  pledge,  and —  Blessed  be  the 
God  of  my  fathers  !  yonder  cometh  a  ship  !" 

"  In  what  direction  ?" 

"  From  the  north." 

"  Canst  thou  tell  her  nationality  by  outward  signs  ?" 

"  Xo.     My  service  hath  been  at  the  oars." 

"  Hath  she  a  flag  ?" 

"  I  cannot  see  one." 

Arrius  remained  quiet  some  time,  apparently  in  deep  re 
flection. 

"  Does  the  ship  hold  this  way  yet  ?"  he  at  length  asked. 

"  Still  this  way." 

"  Look  for  the  flag  now." 

"  She  hath  none."   . 

"  Nor  any  other  sign  f 

"  She  hath  a  sail  set,  and  is  of  three  banks,  and  cometh 
swiftly — that  is  all  I  can  say  of  her." 

"  A  Roman  in  triumph  would  have  out  many  flags.  She 
must  be  an  enemy.  Hear  now,"  said  Arrius,  becoming 
grave  again,  "  hear,  while  yet  I  may  speak.  If  the  galley 
be  a  pirate,  thy  life  is  safe  ;  they  may  not  give  thee  free' 


168  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

dom  ;  they  may  put  thee  to  the  oar  again ;  but  they  will 
not  kill  thee.  On  the  other  hand,  I — " 

The  tribune  faltered. 

"  Pcrpoir"1  he  continued,  resolutely.  "  I  am  too  old  to 
submit  to  dishonor.  In  Rome,  let  them  tell  how  Quintus 
Arrius,  as  became  a  Roman  tribune,  went  down  with  his 
ship  in  the  midst  of  the  foe.  This  is  what  I  would  have 
thee  do.  If  the  galley  prove  a  pirate,  push  me  from  the 
plank  and  drown  me.  Dost  thou  hear  ?  Swear  thou  wilt 
do  it." 

"  I  will  not  swear,"  said  Ben-IIur,  firmly  ;  "  neither  will 
I  do  the  deed.  The  Law,  which  is  to  me  most  binding,  O 
tribune,  would  make  me  answerable  for  thy  life.  Take 
back  the  ring  " — he  took  the  seal  from  his  finger — "  take 
it  back,  and  all  thy  promises  of  favor  in  the  event  of  deliv 
ery  from  this  peril.  The  judgment  which  sent  me  to  the 
oar  for  life  made  me  a  slave,  yet  I  am  not  a  slave  ;  no  more 
am  I  thy  freedman.  I  am  a  son  of  Israel,  and  this  mo 
ment,  at  least,  my  own  master.  Take  back  the  ring." 

Arrius  remained  passive. 

"  Thou  wilt  not  ?"  Judah  continued.  "  Not  in  anger, 
then,  nor  in  any  despite,  but  to  free  myself  from  a  hateful 
obligation,  I  will  give  thy  gift  to  the  sea.  See,  O  tribune !" 

He  tossed  the  ring  away.  Arrius  heard  the  splash 
where  it  struck  and  sank,  though  he  did  not  look. 

"  Thou  hast  done  a  foolish  thing,"  he  said  ;  "  foolish  for 
one  placed  as  thou  art.  I  am  not  dependent  upon  thee  for 
death.  Life  is  a  thread  I  can  break  without  thy  help  ;  and, 
if  I  do,  what  will  become  of  thee  ?  Men  determined  on 
death  prefer  it  at  the  hands  of  others,  for  the  reason  that 
the  soul  which  Plato  giveth  us  is  rebellious  at  the  thought 
of  self-destruction ;  that  is  all.  If  the  ship  be  a  pirate,  I 
will  escape  from  the  world.  My  mind  is  fixed.  I  am  a 
Roman.  Success  and  honor  are  all  in  all.  Yet  I  would 
have  served  thee ;  thou  wouldst  not.  The  ring  was  the 
only  witness  of  my  will  available  in  this  situation.  We  are 
both  lost.  I  will  die  regretting  the  victory  and  glory 
wrested  from  me ;  thou  wilt  live  to  die  a  little  later, 
mourning  the  pious  duties  undone  because  of  this  folly. 
I  pity  thee." 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  169 

Ben-Hur  saw  the  consequences  of  his  act  more  distinctly 
than  before,  yet  he  did  not  falter. 

"  In  the  three  years  of  my  servitude,  O  tribune,  thou 
wert  the  first  to  look  upon  me  kindly.  No,  no !  There 
was  another."  The  voice  dropped,  the  eyes  became  humid, 
and  he  saw  plainly  as  if  it  were  then  before  him  the  face 
of  the  boy  who  helped  him  to  a  drink  by  the  old  well  at 
Xazareth.  "  At  least,"  he  proceeded,  "  thou  wert  the  first 
to  ask  me  who  I  was ;  and  if,  when  I  reached  out  and 
caught  thee,  blind  and  sinking  the  last  time,  I,  too,  had 
thought  of  the  many  ways  in  which  thou  couldst  be  useful 
to  me  in  my  wretchedness,  still  the  act  was  not  all  selfish ; 
this  I  pray  you  to  believe.  Moreover,  seeing  as  God  giveth 
me  to  now,  the  ends  I  dream  of  are  to  be  wrought  by  fair 
means  alone.  As  a  thing  of  conscience,  I  would  rather  die 
with  thee  than  be  thy  slayer.  My  mind  is  firmly  set  as 
thine ;  though  thou  wert  to  offer  me  all  Home,  O  tribune, 
and  it  belonged  to  thee  to  make  the  gift  good,  I  would  not 
kill  thee.  Thy  Cato  and  Brutus  were  as  little  children 
compared  to  the  Hebrew  whose  law  a  Jew  must  obey." 

"  But  my  request.     Hast — 

"  Thy  command  would  be  of  more  weight,  and  that 
would  not  move  me.  I  have  said." 

Both  became  silent,  waiting. 

Ben-Hur  looked  often  at  the  coming  ship.  Arrius  rested 
with  closed  eyes,  indifferent. 

"  Art  thou  sure  she  is  an  enemy  ?"  Bcn-Hur  asked. 

"  I  think  so,"  was  the  reply. 

"  She  stops,  and  puts  a  boat  over  the  side." 

"  Dost  thou  see  her  flag  ?" 

"  Is  there  no  other  sign  by  which  she  may  be  known  if 
Roman  ?" 

"  If  Roman,  she  hath  a  helmet  over  the  mast's  top." 

"  Then  be  of  cheer,  I  see  the  helmet." 

Still  Arrius  was  not  assured. 

"  The  men  in  the  small  boat  are  taking  in  the  people 
afloat.  Pirates  are  not  humane." 

"  They  may  need  rowers,"  Arrius  replied,  recurring, 
possibly,  to  times  when  he  had  made  rescues  for  the  pur 
pose. 


170  BEX-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

Ben-IIur  was  very  watchful  of  the  actions  of  the  stran 
gers. 

"  The  ship  moves  off,"  he  said. 

"  Whither  ?" 

"  Over  on  our  right  there  is  a  galley  which  I  take  to  be 
deserted.  The  new-comer  heads  towards  it.  Now  she  is 
alongside.  Now  she  is  sending  men  aboard." 

Then  Arrius  opened  his  eyes  and  threw  off  his  calm. 

"  Thank  thou  thy  God,"  he  said  to  Bcn-IIur,  after  a  look 
at  the  galleys,  "  thank  thou  thy  God,  as  I  do  my  many 
gods.  A  pirate  would  sink,  not  save,  yon  ship.  By  the 
act  and  the  helmet  on  the  mast  I  know  a  Roman.  The 
victory  is  mine.  Fortune  hath  not  deserted  me.  We  are 
saved.  Wave  thy  hand — call  to  them — bring  them  quickly. 
I  shall  be  duumvir,  and  thou  !  I  knew  thy  father,  and  loved 
him.  He  was  a  prince  indeed.  He  taught  me  a  Jew  was 
not  a  barbarian.  I  will  take  thee  with  me.  I  will  make 
thee  my  son.  Give  thy  God  thanks,  and  call  the  sailors. 
Haste !  The  pursuit  must  be  kept.  Not  a  robber  shall 
escape.  Hasten  them !" 

Judah  raised  himself  upon  the  plank,  and  waved  his 
hand,  and  called  with  all  his  might ;  at  last  he  drew  the 
attention  of  the  sailors  in  the  small  boat,  and  they  were 
speedily  taken  up. 

Arrius  was  received  on  the  galley  with  all  the  honors 
due  a  hero  so  the  favorite  of  Fortune.  Upon  a  couch  on 
the  deck  he  heard  the  particulars  of  the  conclusion  of  the 
fight.  When  the  survivors  afloat  upon  the  water  were  all 
saved  and  the  prize  secured,  he  spread  his  flag  of  command 
ant  anew,  and  hurried  northward  to  rejoin  the  fleet  and 
perfect  the  victory.  In  due  time  the  fifty  vessels  coming 
down  the  channel  closed  in  upon  the  fugitive  pirates,  and 
crushed  them  utterly ;  not  one  escaped.  To  swell  the 
tribune's  glory,  twenty  galleys  of  the  enemy  were  captured. 

Upon  his  return  from  the  cruise,  Arrius  had  warm  wel 
come  on  the  mole  at  Misenum.  The  young  man  attending 
him  very  early  attracted  the  attention  of  his  friends  there ; 
and  to  their  questions  as  to  who  he  was  the  tribune  pro 
ceeded  in  the  most  affectionate  manner  to  tell  the  story  of 
his  rescue  and  introduce  the  stranger,  omitting  carefully  all 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  171 

that  pertained  to  the  latter's  previous  history.  At  the  end 
of  the  narrative  he  called  Ben-IIur  to  him,  and  said,  with 
a  hand  resting  affectionately  upon  his  shoulder, 

"  Good  friends,  this  is  my  son  and  heir,  who,  as  he  is  to 
take  my  property — if  it  be  the  will  of  the  gods  that  I  leave 
any — shall  be  known  to  you  by  my  name.  I  pray  you  all 
to  love  him  as  you  love  me." 

Speedily  as  opportunity  permitted,  the  adoption  was  for 
mally  perfected.  And  in  such  manner  the  brave  Roman 
kept  his  faith  with  Ben-IIur,  giving  him  happy  introduc 
tion  into  the  imperial  world.  The  month  succeeding  Ar- 
rius's  return,  the  armilustrium  was  celebrated  with  the  ut 
most  magnificence  in  the  theatre  of  Scaurus.  One  side  of 
the  structure  was  taken  up  with  military  trophies ;  among 
which  by  far  the  most  conspicuous  and  most  admired  were 
twenty  prows,  complemented  by  their  corresponding  aplus- 
tra,  cut  bodily  from  as  many  galleys  ;  and  over  them,  so  as 
to  be  legible  to  the  eighty  thousand  spectators  in  the  seats, 
was  this  inscription : 


TAKEN  FROM  THE  FIIUTES  IN  THE  GULF  OF  EURIPUS, 

BY 

QUINTUS   ARRIUS, 

DtfCMVIR. 


BOOK  FOURTH. 


"  Alva.  Should  the  monarch  prove  unjust — 

And,  at  this  time — 

Queen.  Then  I  must  wait  for  justice 

Until  it  come ;  and  they  are  happiest  far 
Whose  consciences  may  calmly  wait  their  right." 

SCHILLER,  Don  Carlos  (act  iv.,  sc.  xv.). 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  month  to  which  we  now  come  is  July,  the  year  that 
of  our  Lord  29,  and  the  place  Antioch,  then  Queen  of  the 
East,  and  next  to  Rome  the  strongest,  if  not  the  most  popu 
lous,  city  in  the  world. 

There  is  an  opinion  that  the  extravagance  and  dissolute 
ness  of  the  age  had  their  origin  in  Rome,  and  spread  thence 
throughout  the  empire ;  that  the  great  cities  but  reflected 
the  manners  of  their  mistress  on  the  Tiber.  This  may  be 
doubted.  The  reaction  of  the  conquest  would  seem  to 
have  been  upon  the  morals  of  the  conqueror.  In  Greece 
she  found  a  spring  of  corruption ;  so  also  in  Egypt ;  and 
the  student,  having  exhausted  the  subject,  will  close  the 
books  assured  that  the  flow  of  the  demoralizing  river  was 
from  the  East  westwardly,  and  that  this  very  city  of  An 
tioch,  one  of  the  oldest  seats  of  Assyrian  power  and  splen 
dor,  was  a  principal  source  of  the  deadly  stream. 

A  transport  galley  entered  the  mouth  of  the  river  Qron- 
tes  from  the  blue  waters  of  the  sea.  It  was  in  the  fore 
noon.  The  heat  was  great,  yet  all  on  board  who  could 
avail  themselves  of  the  privilege  were  on  deck — Bcn-IIur 
among  others. 

The  five  years  had  brought  the  young  Jew  to  perfect 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  173 

manhood.  Though  the  robe  of  white  linen  in  which  he 
was  attired  somewhat  masked  his  form,  his  appearance  was 
unusually  attractive.  For  an  hour  and  more  he  had  occu 
pied  a  seat  in  the  shade  of  the  sail,  and  in  that  time  several 
fellow-passengers  of  his  own  nationality  had  tried  to  engage 
him  in  conversation,  but  without  avail.  His  replies  to  their 
questions  had  been  brief,  though  gravely  courteous,  and  in 
the  Latin  tongue.  The  purity  of  his  speech,  his  cultivated 
manners,  his  reticence,  served  to  stimulate  their  curiosity 
the  more.  Such  as  observed  him  closely  were  struck  by  an 
incongruity  between  his  demeanor,  which  had  the  ease  and 
grace  of  a  patrician,  and  certain  points  of  his  person.  Thus 
his  arms  were  disproportionately  long  ;  and  when,  to  steady 
himself  against  the  motion  of  the  vessel,  he  took  hold  of 
anything  near  by,  the  size  of  his  hands  and  their  evident 
power  compelled  remark ;  so  the  wonder  who  and  what 
he  was  mixed  continually  with  a  wish  to  know  the  partic 
ulars  of  his  life.  In  other  words,  his  air  cannot  be  bet 
ter  described  than  as  a  notice — This  man  has  a  story  to 
tell. 

The  galley,  in  coming,  had  stopped  at  one  of  the  ports 
of  Cyprus,  and  picked  up  a  Hebrew  of  most  respectable  ap 
pearance,  quiet,  reserved,  paternal.  Bcn-Hur  ventured  to 
ask  him  some  questions ;  the  replies  won  his  confidence, 
and  resulted  finally  in  an  extended  conversation. 

It  chanced  also  that  as  the  galley  from  Cyprus  entered 
the  receiving  bay  of  the  Orontes,  two  other  vessels  which 
had  been  sighted  out  in  the  sea  met  it  and  passed  into  the 
river  at  the  same  time ;  and  as  they  did  so  both  the  stran 
gers  threw  out  small  flags  of  brightest  yellow.  There  was 
much  conjecture  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  signals.  At 
length  a  passenger  addressed  himself  to  the  respectable 
Hebrew  for  information  upon  the  subject. 

"  Yes,  I  know  the  meaning  of  the  flags,"  he  replied ; 
"  they  do  not  signify  nationality — they  are  merely  marks 
of  ownership." 

"  Has  the  owner  many  ships  ?" 

"  He  has." 

"  You  know  him  ?" 

"  I  have  dealt  with  him." 


174  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

The  passengers  looked  at  the  speaker  as  if  requesting 
him  to  go  on.  Ben-Hur  listened  with  interest. 

"  He  lives  in  Antioch,"  the  Hebrew  continued,  in  his 
quiet  way.  "  That  he  is  vastly  rich  has  brought  him  into 
notice,  and  the  talk  about  him  is  not  always  kind.  There 
used  to  be  in  Jerusalem  a  prince  of  very  ancient  family 
named  Hur." 

Judah  strove  to  be  composed,  yet  his  heart  beat  quicker. 

"  The  prince  was  a  merchant,  with  a  genius  for  business. 
He  set  on  foot  many  enterprises,  some  reaching  far  East, 
others  West.  In  the  great  cities  he  had  branch  houses. 
The  one  in  Antioch  was  in  charge  of  a  man  said  by  some 
to  have  been  a  family  servant  called  Simonides,  Greek  in 
name,  yet  an  Israelite.  The  master  was  drowned  at  sea. 
His  business,  however,  went  on,  and  was  scarcely  less  pros 
perous.  After  a  while  misfortune  overtook  the  family. 
The  prince's  only  son,  nearly  grown,  tried  to  kill  the  proc 
urator  Gratus  in  one  of  the  streets  of  Jerusalem.  He 
failed  by  a  narrow  chance,  and  has  not  since  been  Heard  of. 
In  fact,  the  Roman's  rage  took  in  the  whole  house — not 
one  of  the  name  was  left  alive.  Their  palace  was  sealed 
up,  and  is  now  a  rookery  for  pigeons ;  the  estate  was  con 
fiscated  ;  everything  that  could  be  traced  to  the  ownership 
of  the  Hurs  was  confiscated.  The  procurator  cured  his 
hurt  with  a  golden  salve." 

The  passengers  laughed. 

"  You  mean  he  kept  the  property,"  said  one  of  them. 

"  They  say  so,"  the  Hebrew  replied ;  "  I  am  only  telling 
a  story  as  j[  received  it.  And,  to  go  on,  Simonides,  who 
had  been  the  prince's  agent  here  in  Antioch,  opened  trade 
in  a  short  time  on  his  own  account,  and  in  a  space  incredi 
bly  brief  became  the  master  merchant  of  the  city.  In  imi 
tation  of  his  master,  he  sent  caravans  to  India  ;  and  on  the 
sea  at  present  he  has  galleys  enough  to  make  a  royal  fleet. 
They  say  nothing  goes  amiss  with  him.  His  camels  do 
not  die,  except  of  old  age ;  his  ships  never  founder ;  if  he 
throw  a  chip  into  the  river,  it  will  come  back  to  him  gold." 

"How  long  has  he  been  going  on  thus?" 

"  Not  ten  years." 

"  He  must  have  had  a  good  start." 


BEX-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  175 

"  Yes,  they  say  the  procurator  took  only  the  prince's 
property  ready  at  hand — his  horses,  cattle,  houses,  land, 
vessels,  goods.  The  money  could  not  be  found,  though 
there  must  have  been  vast  sums  of  it.  What  became  of  it 
has  been  an  unsolved  mystery." 

"  Not  to  me,"  said  a  passenger,  with  a  sneer. 

"  I  understand  you,"  the  Hebrew  answered.  "  Others 
liave  had  your  idea.  That  it  furnished  old  Simonides  his 
start  is  a  common  belief.  The  procurator  is  of  that  opin 
ion — or  he  has  been — for  twice  in  five  years  he  has  caught 
the  merchant,  and  put  him  to  torture." 

Judah  griped  the  rope  he  was  holding  with  crushing 
force. 

"  It  is  said,"  the  narrator  continued,  "  that  there  is  not 
a  sound  bone  in  the  man's  body.  The  last  time  I  saw 
him  he  sat  in  a  chair,  a  shapeless  cripple,  propped  against 
cushions." 

"  So  tortured  !"  exclaimed  several  listeners  in  a  breath. 

"  Disease  could  not  have  produced  such  a  deformity. 
Still  the  suffering  made  no  impression  upon  him.  All  he 
had  was  his  lawfully,  and  he  was  making  lawful  use  of  it 
— that  was  the  most  they  wrung  from  him.  Now,  how 
ever,  he  is  past  persecution.  He  has  a  license  to  trade 
signed  by  Tiberius  himself." 

"  He  paid  roundly  for  it,  I  warrant." 

"  These  ships  are  his,"  the  Hebrew  continued,  passing 
the  remark.  "  It  is  a  custom  among  his  sailors  to  salute 
each  other  upon  meeting  by  throwing  out  yellow  flags, 
sight  of  which  is  as  much  as  to  say, '  We  have  had  a  fort 
unate  voyage.' " 

The  story  ended  there. 

When  the  transport  was  fairly  in  the  channel  of  the 
river,  Judah  spoke  to  the  Hebrew. 

"  What  was  the  name  of  the  merchant's  master  ?" 

"  Ben-IIur,  Prince  of  Jerusalem." 

"  What  became  of  the  prince's  family  ?" 

"  The  boy  was  sent  to  the  galleys.  I  may  say  he  is 
dead.  One  year  is  the  ordinary  limit  of  life  under  that 
sentence.  The  widow  and  daughter  have  not  been  heard 
of ;  those  who  know  what  became  of  them  will  not  speak. 


176  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

They  died  doubtless  in  the  cells  of  one  of  the  castles 
which  spot  the  waysides  of  Judea." 

Judah  walked  to  the  pilot's  quarter.  So  absorbed  was 
he  in  thought  that  he  scarcely  noticed  the  shores  of  the 
river,  which  from  sea  to  city  were  surpassingly  beautiful 
with  orchards  of  all  the  Syrian  fruits  and  vines,  clustered 
about  villas  rich  as  those  of  Neapolis.  No  more  did  he 
observe  the  vessels  passing  in  an  endless  fleet,  nor  hear  the 
singing  and  shouting  of  the  sailors,  some  in  labor,  some  in 
merriment.  The  sky  was  full  of  sunlight,  lying  in  hazy 
warmth  upon  the  land  and  the  water  ;  nowhere  except  over 
his  life  was  there  a  shadow. 

Once  only  he  awoke  to  a  momentary  interest,  and  that 
was  when  some  one  pointed  out  the  Grove  of  Daphne,  dis 
cernible  from  a  bend  in  the  river. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHEN  the  city  came  into  view,  the  passengers  were  on 
deck,  eager  that  nothing  of  the  scene  might  escape  them. 
The  respectable  Jew  already  introduced  to  the  reader  was 
the  principal  spokesman. 

"  The  river  here  runs  to  the  west,"  he  said,  in  the  way  of 
general  answer.  "  I  remember  when  it  washed  the  base  of 
the  walls ;  but  as  Roman  subjects  we  have  lived  in  peace, 
and,  as  always  happens  in  such  times,  trade  has  had  its 
will ;  now  the  whole  river  front  is  taken  up  with  wharves 
and  docks.  Yonder  " — the  speaker  pointed  southward — 
"  is  Mount  Casius,  or,  as  these  people  love  to  call  it,  the 
Mountains  of  Orontes,  looking  across  to  its  brother  Amnus 
in  the  north  ;  and  between  them  lies  the  Plain  of  Antioch. 
Farther  on  are  the  Black  Mountains,  whence  the  Ducts  of 
the  Kings  bring  the  purest  water  to  wash  the  thirsty  streets 
and  people  ;  yet  they  are  forests  in  wilderness  state,  dense, 
and  full  of  birds  and  beasts." 

"  Where  is  the  lake  ?"  one  asked. 

"  Over  north  there.  You  can  take  horse,  if  you  wish  to 
see  it — or,  better,  a  boat,  for  a  tributary  connects  it  with 
the  river." 


BEN-IIUil:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  177 

"  The  Grove  of  Daphne  !"  he  said,  to  a  third  inquirer. 
"  Nobody  can  describe  it ;  only  beware  !  It  was  begun  by 
Apollo,  and  completed  by  him.  lie  prefers  it  to  Olympus. 
People  go  there  for  one  look — just  one — and  never  come 
away.  They  have  a  saying  which  tells  it  all — '  Better  be  a 
worm  and  feed  on  the  mulberries  of  Daphne  than  a  king's 
guest." 

"  Then  you  advise  me  to  stay  away  from  it?" 

"  Not  I !  Go  you  will.  Everybody  goes,  cynic  philoso 
pher,  virile  boy,  women,  and  priests — all  go.  So  sure  am 
I  of  what  you  will  do  that  I  assume  to  advise  you.  Do  not 
take  quarters  in  the  city — that  will  be  loss  of  time  ;  but  go 
at  once  to  the  village  in  the  edge  of  the  grove.  The  way 
is  through  a  garden,  under  the  spray  of  fountains.  The 
lovers  of  the  god  and  his  Penaean  maid  built  the  town ; 
and  in  its  porticos  and  paths  and  thousand  retreats  you 
will  find  characters  and  habits  and  sweets  and  kinds"  else 
where  impossible.  But  the  wall  of  the  city  !  there  it  is, 
the  masterpiece  of  Xeraeus,  the  master  of  mural  architec 
ture." 

All  eyes  followed  his  pointing  finger. 

"  This  part  was  raised  by  order  of  the  first  of  the  Scleu- 
cida3.  Three  hundred  years  have  made  it  part  of  the  rock 
it  rests  upon." 

The  defence  justified  the  encomium.  High,  solid,  and 
with  many  bold  angles,  it  curved  southwardly  out  of  view. 

"  On  the  top  there  are  four  hundred  towers,  each  a  res 
ervoir  of  water,"  the  Hebrew  continued.  "  Look  now  ! 
Over  the  wall,  tall  as  it  is,  see  in  the  distance  two  hills, 
which  you  may  know  as  the  rival  crests  of  Sulpius.  The 
structure  on  the  farthest  one  is  the  citadel,  garrisoned  all 
the  year  round  by  a  Roman  legion.  Opposite  it  this  way 
rises  the  Temple  of  Jupiter,  and  under  that  the  front  of 
the  legate's  residence — a  palace  full  of  offices,  and  yet  a 
fortress  against  which  a  mob  would  dash  harmlessly  as  a 
south  wind." 

At  this  point  the  sailors  began  taking  in  sail,  whereupon 

the  Hebrew  exclaimed,  heartily,  "  See  !  you  who  hate  the 

sea,  and  you  who  have  vows,  get  ready  your  curses  and 

your  prayers.     The  bridge  yonder,  over  which  the  road  to 

1-2  " 


178  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CIIRIST. 

Selcucia  is  carried,  marks  the  limit  of  navigation.  "What 
the  ship  unloads  for  further  transit,  the  camel  takes  up 
there.  Above  the  bridge  begins  the  island  upon  which 
Calinicus  built  his  new  city,  connecting  it  with  five  great 
viaducts  so  solid  time  has  made  no  impression  upon  them, 
nor  floods  nor  earthquakes.  Of  the  main  town,  my  friends, 
I  have  only  to  say  you  will  be  happier  all  your  lives  for 
having  seen  it." 

As  he  concluded,  the  ship  turned  and  made  slowly  for 
her  wharf  under  the  wall,  bringing  even  more  fairly  to 
view  the  life  with  which  the  river  at  that  point  Avas  pos 
sessed.  Finally,  the  lines  were  thrown,  the  oars  shipped, 
and  the  voyage  was  done.  Then  Ben-IIur  sought  the  re 
spectable  Hebrew. 

"  Let  me  trouble  you  a  moment  before  saying  farewell." 

The  man  bowed  assent. 

"  Your  story  of  the  merchant  has  made  me  curious  to  see 
him.  You  called  him  Simonides  ?" 

"  Yes.     He  is  a  Jew  with  a  Greek  name." 

"  Where  is  he  to  be  found  ?" 

The  acquaintance  gave  a  sharp  look  before  he  answered, 

"  I  may  save  you  mortification.  TJc  is  not  a  money 
lender." 

"  Nor  am  I  a  money-borrower,"  said  Ben-IIur,  smiling  at 
the  other's  shrewdness. 

The  man  raised  his  head  and  considered  an  instant. 

"  One  would  think,"  he  then  replied,  "  that  the  richest 
merchant  in  Antioch  would  have  a  house  for  business  cor 
responding  to  his  wealth  ;  but  if  you  would  find  him  in  the 
day,  follow  the  river  to  yon  bridge,  under  which  he  quarters 
in  a  building  that  looks  like  a  buttress  of  the  wall.  Before 
the  door  there  is  an  immense  landing,  always  covered  with 
cargoes  come  and  to  go.  The  fleet  that  lies  moored  there 
is  his.  You  cannot  fail  to  find  him." 

"  I  give  you  thanks." 

"  The  peace  of  our  fathers  go  with  you." 

"  And  with  you." 

With  that  they  separated. 

Two  street-porters,  loaded  with  his  baggage,  received 
Befi-IIur's  orders  upon  the  wharf. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  179 

"  To  the  citadel,"  he  said  ;  a  direction  which  implied  an 
official  military  connection. 

Two  great  streets,  cutting  each  other  at  right  angles,  di 
vided  the  city  into  quarters.  A  curious  and  immense 
structure,  called  the  Nymphaeum,  arose  at  the  foot  of  the 
one  running  north  and  south.  AVhcn  the  porters  turned 
south  there,  the  new-comer,  though  fresh  from  Rome,  was 
amazed  at  the  magnificence  of  the  avenue.  On  the  right 
and  left  there  were  palaces,  and  between  them  extended  in 
definitely  double  colonnades  of  marble,  leaving  separate 
ways  for  footmen,  beasts,  and  chariots ;  the  whole  under 
shade,  and  cooled  by  fountains  of  incessant  flow. 

Ben-Hur  was  not  in  mood  to  enjoy  the  spectacle.  The 
story  of  Simonides  haunted  him.  Arrived  at  the  Ompha- 
lus — a  monument  of  four  arches  wide  as  the  streets,  su 
perbly  illustrated,  and  erected  to  himself  by  Epiphanes,  the 
eighth  of  the  Seleucidaj — he  suddenly  changed  his  mind. 

"  I  will  not  go  to  the  citadel  to-night,"  he  said  to  the 
porters.  "  Take  me  to  the  khan  nearest  the  bridge  on  the 
road  to  Seleucia." 

The  party  faced  about,  and  in  good  time  he  was  depos 
ited  in  a  public  house  of  primitive  but  ample  construction, 
within  stone's-throw  of  the  bridge  under  which  old  Simoni 
des  nad  his  quarters,  lie  lay  upon  the  house-top  through 
the  night.  In  his  inner  mind  lived  the  thought,  "  Now — 
now  1  will  hear  of  home — and  mother — and  the  dear  little 
Tirzah.  If  they  are  on  earth,  I  will  find  them." 


CHAPTER  III. 

NEXT  day  early,  to  the  neglect  of  the  city,  Ben-IIur 
sought  the  house  of  Simonides.  Through  an  embattled 
gateway  he  passed  to  a  continuity  of  wharves;  thence  up 
the  river  midst  a  busy  press,  to  the  Selcncian  Bridge,  un 
der  which  he  paused  to  take  in  the  scene. 

There,  directly  under  the  bridge,  was  the  merchant's 
house,  a  mass  of  gray  stone,  unhewn,  referable  to  no  style, 
looking,  as  the  voyager  had  described  it,  like  a  buttress  of 
the  wall  airaiust  which  it  leaned.  Two  immense  doors  in 


180  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST. 

front  communicated  with  the  wharf.  Some  holes  near  the 
top,  heavily  barred,  served  as  windows.  Weeds  waved 
from  the  crevices,  and  in  places  black  moss  splotched  the 
otherwise  bald  stones. 

The  doors  were  open.  Through  one  of  them  business 
went  in ;  through  the  other  it  came  out ;  and  there  was 
hurry,  hurry  in  all  its  movements. 

On  the  wharf  there  were  piles  of  goods  in  every  kind  of 
package,  and  groups  of  slaves,  stripped  to  the  waist,  going 
about  in  the  abandon  of  labor. 

Below  the  bridge  lay  a  fleet  of  galleys,  some  loading, 
others  unloading.  A  yellow  flag  blew  out  from  each  mast 
head.  From  fleet  and  wharf,  and  from  ship  to  ship,  the 
bondmen  of  traffic  passed  in  clamorous  counter-currents. 

Above  the  bridge,  across  the  river,  a  wTall  rose  from  the 
water's  edge,  over  which  towered  the  fanciful  cornices  and 
turrets  of  an  imperial  palace,  covering  every  foot  of  the  isl 
and  spoken  of  in  the  Hebrew's  description.  But,  with  all 
its  suggestions,  Ben-Hur  scarcely  noticed  it.  Now,  at  last, 
he  thought  to  hear  of  his  people — this,  certainly, if  Simoni- 
des  had  indeed  been  his  father's  slave.  But  would  the 
man  acknowledge  the  relation  ?  That  would  be  to  give  up 
his  riches  and  the  sovereignty  of  trade  so  royally  witnessed 
on  the  wharf  and  river.  And  what  was  of  still  greater 
consequence  to  the  merchant,  it  would  be  to  forego  his  ca- ' 
reer  in  the  midst  of  amazing  success,  and  yield  himself 
voluntarily  once  more  a  slave.  Simple  thought  of  the  de 
mand  seemed  a  monstrous  audacity.  Stripped  of  diplo 
matic  address,  it  was  to  say,  You  are  my  slave ;  give  me 
all  you  have,  and — yourself. 

Yet  Ben-Hur  derived  strength  for  the  interview  from 
faith  in  his  rights  and  the  hope  uppermost  in  his  heart. 
If  the  story  to  which  he  was  yielding  were  true,  Simonides 
belonged  to  him,  with  all  he  had.  For  the  wealth,  be  it 
said  in  justice,  he  cared  nothing.  When  he  started  to  the 
door  determined  in  mind,  it  was  with  a  promise  to  himself 
— "  Let  him  tell  me  of  mother  and  Tirzah,  and  I  will  give 
him  his  freedom  without  account." 

He  passed  boldly  into  the  house. 

The  interior  was  that  of  a  vast  depot  where,  in  ordered 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  181 

spaces,  and  under  careful  arrangement,  goods  of  every  kind 
were  heaped  and  pent.  Though  the  light  was  murky  and 
the  air  stilling,  men  moved  about  briskly ;  and  in  places 
he  saw  workmen  with  saws  and  hammers  making  packages 
for  shipments.  Down  a  path  between  the  piles  he  walked 
slowly,  wondering  if  the  man  of  whose  genius  there  were 
here  such  abounding  proofs  could  have  been  his  father's 
slave  ?  If  so,  to  what  class  had.  he  belonged  ?  If  a  Jew, 
was  he  the  son  of  a  servant  ?  Or  was  he  a  debtor  or  a 
debtor's  son  ?  Or  had  he  been  sentenced  and  sold  for 
theft  ?  These  thoughts,  as  they  passed,  in  nowise  dis 
turbed  the  growing  respect  for  the  merchant  of  which  he 
was  each  instant  more  and  more  conscious.  A  peculiar 
ity  of  our  admiration  for  another  is  that  it  is  always  look 
ing  I'*,-)'  circumstances  to  justify  itself. 

At  length  a  man  approached  and  spoke  to  him. 

"  What  would  you  have  ?" 

"  I  would  see  Simonides,  the  merchant." 

"  Will  you  come  this  way  '?" 

By  a  number  of  paths  left  in  the  stowage,  they  finally 
came  to  a  flight  of  steps ;  ascending  which,  he  found  him 
self  on  the  roof  of  the  depot,  and  in  front  of  a  structure 
which  cannot  be  better  described  than  as  a  lesser  stone 
house  built  upon  another,  invisible  from  the  landing  below, 
and  out  west  of  the  bridge  under  the  open  sky.  The  roof, 
hemmed  in  by  a  low  wall,  seemed  like  a  terrace,  which,  to 
his  astonishment,  was  brilliant  with  flowers;  in  the  rich 
surrounding,  the  house  sat  squat,  a  plain  square  block,  un 
broken  except  by  a  doorway  in  front.  A  dtistless  path 
led  to  the  door,  through  a  bordering  of  shrubs  of  Persian 
rose  in  perfect  bloom.  Breathing  a  sweet  attar-perfume, 
he  followed  the  guide. 

At  the  end  of  a  darkened  passage  within,  they  stopped 
before  a  curtain  half  parted.  The  man  called  out, 

"  A  stranger  to  see  the  master." 

A  clear  voice  replied,  "  In  God's  name,  let  him  enter." 

A  Roman  might  have  called  the  apartment  into  which 
the  visitor  was  ushered  his  atrium.  The  walls  were  pan 
elled  ;  each  panel  was  comparted  like  a  modern  office-desk, 
and  each  compartment  crowded  with  labelled  folios  all  file- 


182  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

mot  with  age  and  use.  Between  the  panels,  and  above  and 
below  them,  were  borders  of  wood  once  white,  now  tinted 
like  cream,  and  carved  with  marvellous  intricacy  of  design. 
Above  a  cornice  of  gilded  balls,  the  ceiling  rose  in  pavilion 
style  until  it  broke  into  a  shallow  dome  set  with  hundreds 
of  panes  of  violet  mica,  permitting  a  flood  of  light  dclicious- 
ly  reposeful.  The  floor  was  carpeted  with  gray  rugs  so 
thick  that  an  invading  foot  fell  half  buried  and  sound 
less. 

In  the  midlight  of  the  room  were  two  persons — a  man 
resting  in  a  chair  high-backed,  broad-armed,  and  lined  with 
pliant  cushions  ;  and  at  his  left,  leaning  against  the  back 
of  the  chair,  a  girl  well  forward  into  womanhood.  At 
sight  of  them  Ben-Hur  felt  the  blood  redden  his  forehead  ; 
bowing,  as  much  to  recover  himself  as  in  respect,  he  lost 
the  lifting  of  the  hands,  and  the  shiver  and  shrink  with 
which  the  sitter  caught  sight  of  him — an  emotion  as  swift 
to  go  as  it  had  been  to  come.  AYhcn  he  raised  his  eyes 
the  two  were  in  the  same  position,  except  the  girl's  hand 
had  fallen  and  was  resting  lightly  upon  the  elder's  shoulder  ; 
both  of  them  were  regarding  him  fixedly. 

"If  you  are  Simonides,  the  merchant,  and  a  Jew" — 
Ben-IIur  stopped  an  instant — "  then  the  peace  of  the  God 
of  our  father  Abraham  upon  you  and — yours." 

The  last  word  was  addressed  to  the  girl. 

"  I  am  the  Simonides  of  whom  you  speak,  by  birthright 
a  Jew,"  the  man  made  answer,  in  a  voice  singularly  clear. 
"  I  am  Simonides,  and  a  Jew  ;  and  I  return  you  your  salu 
tation,  with  prayer  to  know  who  calls  upon  me." 

Ben-Hur  looked  as  he  listened,  and  where  the  figure  of 
the  man  should  have  been  in  healthful  roundness,  there 
was  only  a  formless  heap  sunk  in  the  depths  of  the  cush 
ions,  and  covered  by  a  quilted  robe  of  sombre  silk.  Over 
the  heap  shone  a  head  royally  proportioned — the  ideal 
head  of  a  statesman  and  conqueror — a  head  broad  of  base 
and  dome-like  in  front,  such  as  Angelo  would  have  mod 
elled  for  Caesar.  White  hair  dropped  in  thin  locks  over  the 
white  brows,  deepening  the  blackness  of  the  eyes  shining 
through  them  like  sullen  lights.  The  face  was  bloodless, 
and  much  puffed  with  folds,  especially  under  the  chin.  In 


BEX-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  183 

other  words,  the  head  and  face  were  those  of  a  man  who 
might  move  the  world  more  readily  than  the  world  could 
move  him — a  man  to  be  twice  twelve  times  tortured  into  the 
shapeless  cripple  he  was,  without  a  groan,  much  less  a  con 
fession  ;  a  man  to  yield  his  life,  but  never  a  purpose  or  a 
point ;  a  man  born  in  armor,  and  assailable  only  through  his 
loves.  To  him  Ben-Hur  stretched  his  hands,  open  and  palm 
up,  as  he  would  offer  peace  at  the  same  time  he  asked  it. 

"  I  am  Judah,  son  of  Ithamar,  late  head  of  the  House 
of  Hur,  and  a  prince  of  Jerusalem." 

The  merchant's  right  hand  lay  outside  the  robe — a  long, 
thin  hand,  articulate  to  deformity  with  suffering.  It  closed 
tightly ;  otherwise  there  was  not  the  slightest  expression 
of  feeling  of  any  kind  on  his  part ;  nothing  to  warrant  an 
inference  of  surprise  or  interest ;  nothing  but  this  calm  an 
swer, 

"  The  princes  of  Jerusalem,  of  the  pure  blood,  are  always 
welcome  in  my  house  ;  you  are  welcome.  Give  the  young 
man  a  seat,  Esther." 

The  girl  took  an  ottoman  near  by,  and  carried  it  to  Ben- 
Ilur.  As  she  arose  from  placing  the  seat,  their  eyes  met. 

"  The  peace  of  our  Lord  with  you,"  she  said,  modestly. 
"  Be  seated  and  at  rest." 

When  she  resumed  her  place  by  the  chair,  she  had  not 
divined  his  purpose.  The  powers  of  woman  go  not  so  far  : 
if  the  matter  is  of  finer  feeling,  such  as  pity,  mercy,  sym 
pathy,  that  she  detects  ;  and  therein  is  a  difference  between 
her  and  man  which  will  endure  as  long  as  she  remains,  by 
nature,  alive  to  such  feelings.  She  was  simply  sure  he 
brought  some  wound  of  life  for  healing. 

Ben-Hur  did  not  take  the  offered  seat,  but  said,  defer 
entially,  "  I  pray  the  good  master  Simonides  that  he  will 
not  hold  me  an  intruder.  Coming  up  the  river  yesterday, 
I  heard  he  knew  my  father." 

"  I  knew  the  Prince  Hur.  We  were  associated  in  some 
enterprises  lawful  to  merchants  who  find  profit  in  lands  be 
yond  the  sea  and  the  desert.  But  sit,  I  pray  you — and. 
Esther,  some  wine  for  the  young  man.  Nehemiah  speaks 
of  a  son  of  llur  who  once  ruled  the  half  part  of  Jerusalem  ; 
an  old  house ;  very  old,  by  the  faith  !  In  the  days  of 


184  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

Moses  and  Joshua  even  some  of  them  found  favor  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord,  and  divided  honors  with  those  princes 
among  men.  It  can  hardly  be  that  their  descendant,  lin 
eally  come  to  us,  will  refuse  a  cup  of  wine-fat  of  the  gen 
uine  vine  of  Sorek,  grown  on  the  south  hill-sides  of  Hebron." 

By  the  time  of  the  conclusion  of  this  speech,  Esther  was 
before  Ben-Hur  with  a  silver  cup  filled  from  a  vase  upon  a 
table  a  little  removed  from  the  chair.  She  offered  the  drink 
with  downcast  face.  He  touched  her  hand  gently  to  put 
it  away.  Again  their  eyes  met ;  whereat  he  noticed  that 
she  was  small,  not  nearly  to  his  shoulder  in  height ;  but 
very  graceful,  and  fair  and  sweet  of  face,  with  eyes  black 
and  inexpressibly  soft.  She  is  kind  and  pretty,  he  thought, 
and  looks  as  Tirzah  would  were  she  living.  Poor  Tirzah  ! 
Then  he  said  aloud, 

"  No,  thy  father — if  he  is  thy  father  ?" — he  praised. 

"  I  am  Esther,  the  daughter  of  Simonides,"  she  said, 
with  dignity. 

"  Then,  fair  Esther,  thy  father,  when  he  has  heard  my 
further  speech,  will  not  think  worse  of  me  if  yet  I  am  slow 
to  take  his  wine  of  famous  extract ;  nor  less  I  hope  not  to 
lose  grace  in  thy  sight.  Stand  thou  here  with  me  a  mo 
ment !" 

Both  of  them,  as  in  common  cause,  turned  to  the  mer 
chant.  "  Simonides  !"  he  said,  firmly,  "  my  father,  at  his 
death,  had  a  trusted  servant  of  thy  name,  and  it  has  been 
told  me  that  thou  art  the  man !" 

There  was  a  sudden  start  of  the  Avrenchcd  limbs  under 
the  robe,  and  the  thin  hand  clenched. 

"  Esther,  Esther  !"  the  man  called,  sternly  ;  "  here,  not 
there,  as  thou  art  thy  mother's  child  and  mine — here,  not 
there,  I  say !" 

The  girl  looked  once  from  father  to  visitor ;  then  she 
replaced  the  cup  upon  the  table,  and  went  dutifully  to  the 
chair.  Her  countenance  sufficiently  expressed  her  wonder 
and  alarm. 

Simonides  lifted  his  left  hand  and  gave  it  into  hers,  ly 
ing  lovingly  upon  his  shoulder,  and  said,  dispassionately, 
"  I  have  grown  old  in  dealing  with  men — old  before  my 
time.  If  he  who  told  thee  that  whereof  thou  speakcstwas 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  185 

a  friend  acquainted  with  my  history,  and  spoke  of  it  not 
harshly,  he  must  have  persuaded  thec  that  I  could  not  be 
else  than  a  man  distrustful  of  my  kind.  The  God  of  Is 
rael  help  him  who,  at  the  end  of  life,  is  constrained  to 
acknowledge  so  much  !  My  loves  are  few,  but  they  are. 
One  of  them  is  a  soul  which" — he  carried  the  hand  hold 
ing  his  to  his  lips,  in  manner  unmistakable — "  a  soul  which 
to  this  time  has  been  unselfishly  mine,  and  such  sweet  com 
fort  that,  were  it  taken  from  me,  I  would  die." 

Esther's  head  drooped  until  her  cheek  touched  his. 

"  The  other  love  is  but  a  memory ;  of  which  I  will  say 
further  that,  like  a  benison  of  the  Lord,  it  hath  a  compass 
to  contain  a  whole  family,  if  only" — his  voice  lowered  and 
trembled — "  if  only  I  knew  where  they  were." 

Ben-Hur's  face  suffused,  and,  advancing  a  step,  he  cried, 
impulsively,  "  My  mother  and  sister !  Oh,  it  is  of  them 
you  speak  !" 

Esther,  as  if  spoken  to,  raised  her  head  ;  but  Simonides 
returned  to  his  calm,  and  answered,  coldly,  "  Hear  me  to 
the  end.  Because  1  am  that  I  am,  and  because  of  the 
loves  of  which  I  have  spoken,  before  I  make  return  to  thy 
demand  touching  my  relations  to  the  Prince  Ilur,  and  as 
something  which  of  right  should  come  first,  do  thon  show 
me  proofs  of  who  thou  art.  Is  thy  witness  in  writing? 
Or  cometh  it  in  person  ?" 

The  demand  was  plain,  and  the  right  of  it  indisputable. 
Ben-Hur  blushed,  clasped  his  hands,  stammered,  and  turned 
away  at  loss.  Simonides  pressed  him. 

"  The  proofs,  the  proofs,  I  say  !  Set  them  before  me — 
lay  them  in  my  hands  !" 

Yet  Ben-Hur  made  no  answer.  He  had  not  anticipated 
the  requirement ;  and,  now  that  it  was  made,  to  him  as 
never  before  came  the  awful  fact  that  the  three  years  in 
the  galley  had  carried  away  all  the  proofs  of  his  identity  ; 
mother  and  sister  gone,  he  did  not  live  in  the  knowledge 
of  any  human  being.  Many  there  were  acquainted  with 
him,  but  that  was  all.  Had  Quintus  Arrius  been  present, 
what  could  he  have  said  more  than  where  he  found  him, 
and  that  he  believed  the  pretender  to  be  the  son  of  Hur  ? 
But,  as  will  presently  appear  in  full,  the  brave  Roman 


186  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

sailor  was  dead.  Judah  had  felt  the  loneliness  before  ; 
to  the  core  of  life  the  sense  struck  him  now.  He  stood, 
hands  clasped,  face  averted,  in  stupefaction.  Simonides 
respected  his  suffering,  and  waited  in  silence. 

"  Master  Simonides,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  I  can  only 
tell  my  story ;  and  I  will  not  that  unless  you  stay  judg 
ment  so  long,  and  with  good-will  deign  to  hear  me." 

"  Speak,"  said  Simonides,  now,  indeed,  master  of  the 
situation — "  speak,  and  I  will  listen  the  more  willingly 
that  I  have  not  denied  you  to  be  the  very  person  you  claim 
yourself." 

Ben-IIur  proceeded  then,  and  told  his  life  hurriedly,  yet 
with  the  feeling  which  is  the  source  of  all  eloquence ;  but 
as  we  are  familiar  with  it  down  to  his  landing  at  Misenum, 
in  company  with  Arrius,  returned  victorious  from  the 
^Egean,  at  that  point  we  will  take  up  the  words. 

"  My  benefactor  was  loved  and  trusted  by  the  emperor, 
who  heaped  him  with  honorable  rewards.  The  merchants 
of  the  East  contributed  magnificent  presents,  and  he  became 
doubly  rich  among  the  rich  of  Rome.  May  a  Jew  forget 
his  religion  ?  or  his  birthplace,  if  it  were  the  Holy  Land  of 
our  fathers  ?  The  good  man  adopted  me  his  son  by  formal 
rites  of  law ;  and  1  strove  to  make  him  just  return :  no 
child  was  ever  more  dutiful  to  father  than  1  to  him.  lie 
would  have  had  me  a  scholar ;  in  art,  philosophy,  rhetoric, 
oratory,  he  would  have  furnished  me  the  most  famous 
teacher.  I  declined  his  insistence,  because  I  was  a  Jew, 
and  could  not  forget  the  Lord  God,  or  the  glory  of  the 
prophets,  or  the  city  set  on  the  hills  by  David  and  Solomon. 
Oh,  ask  you  why  I  accepted  any  of  the  benefactions  of 
the  Roman  ?  I  loved  him  ;  next  place,  I  thought  I  could, 
with  his  help,  array  influences  which  would  enable  me  one 
day  to  unseal  the  mystery  close-locking  the  fate  of  my 
mother  aud  sister ;  and  to  these  there  was  yet  another 
motive  of  which  I  shall  not  speak  except  to  say  it  con 
trolled  me  so  far  that  1  devoted  myself  to  arms,  and  the 
acquisition  of  everything  deemed  essential  to  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  art  of  war.  In  the  palaestrae  and  cir 
cuses  of  the  city  I  toiled,  and  in  the  camps  no  less ;  and 
in  all  of  them  I  have  a  name,  but  not  that  of  my  fathers. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST.  187 

The  crowns  I  won — and  on  the  walls  of  the  villa  by  Mise- 
num  there  arc  many  of  them — all  came  to  me  as  the  son 
of  Arrius,  the  duumvir.  In  that  relation  only  am  I  known 
among  Romans.  .  .  ,  In  steadfast  pursuit  of  my  secret 
aim,  I  left  Rome  for  Antioch,  intending  to  accompany  the 
Consul  Maxcntius  in  the  campaign  he  is  organizing  against 
the  Parthians.  Master  of  personal  skill  in  all  arms,  I  seek 
now  the  higher  knowledge  pertaining  to  the  conduct  of 
bodies  of  men  in  the  field.  The  consul  has  admitted  me 
one  of  his  military  family.  But  yesterday,  as  our  ship  en 
tered  the  Orontes,  two  other  ships  sailed  in  with  us  flying 
yellow  flags.  A  fellow-passenger  and  countryman  from 
Cypress  explained  that  the  vessels  belonged  to  Simonides, 
the  master-merchant  of  Antioch  ;  he  told  us,  also,  who  the 
merchant  was  ;  his  marvellous  success  in  commerce  ;  of 
his  fleets  and  caravans,  and  their  coming  and  going  ;  and, 
not  knowing  I  had  interest  in  the  theme  beyond  my  asso 
ciate  listeners,  he  said  Simonides  was  a  Jew,  once  the 
servant  of  the  Prince  llur ;  nor  did  he  conceal  the  cruel 
ties  of  Gratus,  or  the  purpose  of  their  infliction." 

At  this  allusion  Simonides  bowed  his  head,  and,  as  if  to 
help  him  conceal  his  feelings  and  her  own  deep  sympathy, 
the  daughter  hid  her  face  on  his  neck.  Directly  he  raised 
his  eyes,  and  said,  in  a  clear  voice,  "  I  am  listening." 

"  O  good  Simonides  !"  Ben-IIur  then  said,  advancing  a 
step,  his  whole  soul  seeking  expression,  "  I  see  thou  art  not 
convinced,  and  that  yet  I  stand  in  the  shadow  of  thy  dis 
trust," 

The  merchant  held  his  features  fixed  as  marble,  and  his 
tongue  as  still. 

"  And  not  less  clearly,  I  see  the  difficulties  of  my  posi 
tion,"  Ben-IIur  continued.  "  All  my  Roman  connection  I 
can  prove ;  I  have  only  to  call  upon  the  consul,  now  the 
guest  of  the  governor  of  the  city ;  but  I  cannot  prove  the 
particulars  of  thy  demand  upon  me.  I  cannot  prove  I  am 
my  father's  son.  They  who  could  serve  me  in  that — alas  ! 
they  are  dead  or  lost." 

lie  covered  his  face  with  his  hands ;  whereupon  Esther 
arose,  and,  taking  the  rejected  cup  to  him,  said,  "  The  wine 
is  of  the  country  we  all  so  love.  Drink,  I  pray  thee  !" 


188  BEN-HUR:A   TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST. 

The  voice  was  sweet  as  that  of  Rebekah  offering  drink 
at  the  well  near  Nahor  the  city  ;  he  saw  there  were  tears  in 
her  eyes,  and  he  drank,  saying,  "  Daughter  of  Simonides, 
thy  heart  is  full  of  goodness ;  and  merciful  art  thou  to  let 
the  stranger  share  it  with  thy  father.  Be  thou  blessed  of 
our  God  !  I  thank  thee." 

Then  he  addressed  himself  to  the  merchant  again : 

"  As  I  have  no  proof  that  I  am  my  father's  son,  I  will 
withdraw  that  I  demanded  of  thee,  O  Simonides,  and  go 
hence  to  trouble  you  no  more ;  only  let  me  say  I  did  not 
seek  thy  return  to  servitude  nor  account  of  thy  fortune ;  in 
any  event,  I  would  have  said,  as  now  I  say,  that  all  which 
is  product  of  thy  labor  and  genius  is  thine  ;  keep  it  in  wel 
come.  I  have  no  need  of  any  part  thereof.  AVhen  the 
good  Quintus,  my  second  father,  sailed  on  the  voyage 
which  was  his  last,  he  left  me  his  heir,  princely  rich.  If, 
therefore,  thou  dost  think  of  me  again,  be  it  with  remem 
brance  of  this  question,  which,  as  I  do  swear  by  the  proph 
ets  and  Jehovah,  thy  God  and  mine,  was  the  chief  pur 
pose  of  my  coming  here :  What  dost  thou  know — what 
canst  thou  tell  me — of  my  mother  and  Tirzah,  my  sister — 
she  who  should  be  in  beauty  and  grace  even  as  this  one, 
thy  sweetness  of  life,  if  not  thy  very  life  ?  Oh !  what 
canst  thou  tell  me  of  them  ?" 

The  tears  ran  down  Esther's  cheeks ;  but  the  man  was 
wilful ;  in  a  clear  voice,  he  replied, 

"  I  have  said  I  knew  the  Prince  Ben-IIur.  I  remember 
hearing  of  the  misfortune  which  overtook  his  family.  I 
remember  the  bitterness  with  which  I  heard  it.  He  who 
wrought  such  misery  to  the  widow  of  my  friend  is  the 
same  who,  in  the  same  spirit,  hath  since  wrought  upon  me. 
I  will  go  further,  and  say  to  you,  I  have  made  diligent 
quest  concerning  the  family,  but  —  I  have  nothing  to  tell 
you  of  them.  They  are  lost." 

Ben-Hur  uttered  a  great  groan. 

"  Then — then  it  is  another  hope  broken  !"  he  said,  strug 
gling  with  his  feelings.  "  I  am  used  to  disappointments. 
I  pray  you  pardon  my  intrusion  ;  and  if  I  have  occasioned 
you  annoyance,  forgive  it  because" of  my  sorrow.  I  have 
nothing  now  to  live  for  but  vengeance.  Farewell." 


BEN-HUB:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  189 

At  the  curtain  he  turned,  and  said  simply,  "  I  thank  you 
both." 

"  Peace  go  with  you,"  the  merchant  said. 
Esther  could  not  speak  for  sobbing. 
And  so  he  departed. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SCARCELY  was  Ben-IIur  gone,  when  Simonides  seemed 
to  wake  as  from  sleep :  his  countenance  flushed ;  the  sul 
len  light  of  his  eyes  changed  to  brightness ;  and  he  said, 
cheerily, 

"  Esther,  ring — quick  !" 

She  went  to  the  table,  and  rang  a  service-bell. 

One  of  the  panels  in  the  wall  swung  back,  exposing  a 
doorway  which  gave  admittance  to  a  man  who  passed 
round  to  the  merchant's  front,  and  saluted  him  with  a 
half-salaam. 

"  Malluch,  here — nearer — to  the  chair,"  the  master,  said, 
imperiously.  "  I  have  a  mission  which  shall  not  fail 
though  the  sun  should.  Hearken  !  A  young  man  is  now 
descending  to  the  store-room — tall,  comely,  and  in  the  garb 
of  Israel ;  follow  him,  his  shadow  not  more  faithful ;  and 
every  night  send  me  report  of  where  he  is,  what  he  does, 
and  the  company  he  keeps  ;  and  if,  without  discovery,  you 
overhear  his  conversations,  report  them  word  for  word,  to 
gether  with  whatever  will  serve  to  expose  him,  his  haliits, 
motives,  life.  Understand  you  ?  Go  quickly  !  Stay,  Mal 
luch  :  if  he  leave  the  city,  go  after  him  —  and,  mark  you, 
Malluch,  be  as  a  friend.  If  he  bespeak  you,  tell  him 
what  you  will  to  the  occasion  most  suited,  except  that 
you  are  in  my  service  ;  of  that,  not  a  word.  Haste — make 
haste  !" 

The  man  saluted  as  before,  and  was  gone. 

Then  Simonides  rubbed  his  wan  hands  together,  and 
laughed. 

"  What  is  the  day,  daughter  ?"  he  said,  in  the  midst  of 
the  mood.  "  What  is  the  day  ?  I  wish  to  remember  it  for 


190  BEN-HUR:  A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

happiness  come.  See,  and  look  for  it  laughing,  and  laugh 
ing  tell  me,  Esther." 

The  merriment  seemed  unnatural  to  her ;  and,  as  if  to 
entreat  him  from  it,  she  answered,  sorrowfully,  "  Woe's 
me,  father,  that  I  should  ever  forget  this  day  !" 

Ilis  hands  fell  down  the  instant,  and  his  chin,  dropping 
upon  his  breast,  lost  itself  in  the  muffling  folds  of  flesh 
composing  his  lower  face. 

"  True,  most  true,  my  daughter  !"  he  said,  without  look 
ing  up.  "  This  is  the  twentieth  day  of  the  fourth  month. 
To-day,  five  years  ago,  my  Ilachel,  thy  mother,  fell  down 
and  died.  They  brought  me  home  broken  as  thou  seest 
me,  and  we  found  her  dead  of  grief.  Oh,  to  me  she  was  a 
cluster  of  camphire  in  the  vineyards  of  En-Gedi !  I  have 
gathered  my  myrrh  with  my  spice.  I  have  eaten  my 
honeycomb  with  my  honey.  We  laid  her  away  in  a  lone 
ly  place — in  a  tomb  cut  in  the  mountain  ;  no  one  near  her. 
Yet  in  the  darkness  she  left  me  a  little  light,  which  the 
years  have  increased  to  a  brightness  of  morning."  He 
raised  his  hand  and  rested  it  upon  his  daughter's  head. 
"  Dear  Lord,  I  thank  thee  that  now  in  my  Esther  my  lost 
Rachel  liveth  again !" 

Directly  he  lifted  his  head,  and  said,  as  with  a  sudden 
thought,  "  Is  it  not  clear  day  outside  ?" 

"  It  was,  when  the  young  man  came  in." 

"  Then  let  Abimelech  come  and  take  me  to  the  garden, 
where  I  can  see  the  river  and  the  ships,  and  I  will  tell 
thee,  dear  Esther,  why  but  now  my  mouth  filled  with 
laughter,  and  my  tongue  with  singing,  and  my  spirit  was 
like  to  a  roe  or  to  a  young  hart  upon  the  mountains  of 
spices." 

In  answer  to  the  bell  a  servant  came,  and  at  her  bidding 
pushed  the  chair,  set  on  little  wheels  for  the  purpose,  out 
of  the  room  to  the  roof  of  the  lower  house,  called  by  him 
his  garden.  Out  through  the  roses,  and  by  beds  of  lesser 
flowers,  all  triumphs  of  careful  attendance,  but  now  un 
noticed,  he  was  rolled  to  a  position  from  which  he  could 
view  the  palace-tops  over  against  him  on  the  island,  the 
bridge  in  lessening  perspective  to  the  farther  shore,  and 
the  river  below  the  bridge  crowded  with  vessels,  all  swim- 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  191 

>  ming  amidst  the  dancing  splendors  of  the  early  sun  upon 
the  rippling  water.  There  the  servant  left  him  with 
Esther. 

The  much  shouting  of  laborers,  and  their  beating  and 
pounding,  did  not  disturb  him  any  more  than  the  tramp 
ing  of  people  on  the  bridge-floor  almost  overhead,  being  as 
familiar  to  his  ear  as  the  view  before  him  to  his  eye,  and 
therefore  unnoticeable,  except  as  suggestions  of  prolits  in 
promise. 

Esther  sat  on  the  arm  of  the  chair  nursing  his  hand,  and 
waiting  his  speech,  which  came  at  length  in  the  calm  way, 
the  mighty  will  having  carried  him  back  to  himself. 

"  When  the  young  man  was  speaking,  Esther,  I  observed 
thee,  and  thought  thou  wert  won  by  him." 

Her  eyes  fell  as  she  replied, 

"  Speak  you  of  faith,  father,  I  believed  him." 

"  In  thy  eyes,  then,  he  is  the  lost  son  of  the  Prince 
Ilur  ?" 

"  If  he  is  not — "     She  hesitated. 

"  And  if  he  is  not,  Esther  ?" 

"  I  have  been  thy  handmaiden,  father,  since  my  mother 
answered  the  call  of  the  Lord  God ;  by  thy  side  I  have 
heard  and  seen  thee  deal  in  wise  ways  with  all  manner  of 
men  seeking  profit,  holy  and  unholy ;  and  now  I  say,  if 
indeed  the  young  man  be  not  the  prince  he  claims  to  be, 
then  before  me  falsehood  never  played  so  well  the  part  of 
righteous  truth." 

"  By  the  glory  of  Solomon,  daughter,  thou  spcakest 
earnestly.  Dost  thou  believe  thy  father  his  father's  ser 
vant  ?" 

"  I  understood  him  to  ask  of  that  as  something  he  had 
but  heard." 

For  a  time  Simonides'  gaze  swam  among  his  swimming 
ships,  though  they  had  no  place  in  his  mind. 

"  Well,  thou  art  a  good  child,  Esther,  of  genuine  Jewish 
shrewdness,  and  of  years  and  strength  to  hear  a  sorrowful 
tale.  Wherefore  give  me  heed,  and  I  will  tell  you  of  my 
self,  and  of  thy  mother,  and  of  many  things  pertaining  to 
the  past  not  in  thy  knowledge  or  thy  dreams — things  with 
held  from  the  persecuting  Romans  for  a  hope's  sake,  and 


192  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST. 

from  thce  that  thy  nature  should  grow  towards  the  Lord 
straight  as  the  reed  to  the  sun.  ...  I  was  born  in  a  tomb 
in  the  valley  of  Hinnom,  on  the  south  side  of  Zion.  My 
father  and  mother  were  Hebrew  bond-servants,  tenders  of 
the  fig  and  olive  trees  growing,  with  many  vines,  in  the 
King's  Garden  hard  by  Siloam ;  and  in  my  boyhood  I 
helped  them.  They  were  of  the  class  bound  to  serve  for 
ever.  They  sold  me  to  the  Prince  Ilur,  then,  next  to  Ilerod 
the  King,  the  richest  man  in  Jerusalem.  From  the  garden 
he  transferred  me  to  his  storehouse  in  Alexandria  of  Egypt, 
where  I  came  of  age.  I  served  him  six  years,  and  in  the 
seventh,  by  the  law  of  Moses,  I  went  free." 

Esther  clapped  her  hands  lightly. 

"  Oh,  then,  thou  art  not  his  father's  servant !" 

"  Nay,  daughter,  hear.  Now,  in  those  days  there  were 
lawyers  in  the  cloisters  of  the  Temple  who  disputed  vehe 
mently,  saying  the  children  of  servants  bound  forever  took 
the  condition  of  their  parents ;  but  the  Prince  Ilur  was  a 
man  righteous  in  all  things,  and  an  interpreter  of  the  law 
after  the  straitest  sect,  though  not  of  them.  He  said  I 
was  a  Hebrew  servant  bought,  in  the  true  meaning  of  the 
great  lawgiver,  and,  by  sealed  writings,  which  I  yet  have, 
he  set  me  free." 

"  And  my  mother  ?"  Esther  asked. 

"  Thou  shalt  hear  all,  Esther  ;  be  patient.  Before  I  am 
through  thou  shalt  see  it  were  easier  for  me  to  forget  my- 
self  than  thy  mother.  ...  At  the  end  of  my  service,  I 
came  up  to  Jerusalem  to  the  Passover.  My  master  enter 
tained  me.  I  was  in  love  with  him  already,  and  I  prayed 
to  be  continued  in  his  service.  He  consented,  and  I 
served  him  yet  another  seven  years,  but  as  a  hired  son  of 
Israel.  In  his  behalf  I  had  charge  of  ventures  on  the  sea 
by  ships,  and  of  ventures  on  land  by  caravans  eastward  to 
Susa  and  Persepolis,  and  the  lands  of  silk  beyond  them. 
Perilous  passages  were  they,  my  daughter ;  but  the  Lord 
blessed  all  I  undertook.  I  brought  home  vast  gains  for 
the  prince,  and  richer  knowledge  for  myself,  without  which 
I  could  not  have  mastered  the  charges  since  fallen  to  me. 
.  .  .  One  day  I  was  a  guest  in  his  house  in  Jerusalem.  A 
servant  entered  with  some  sliced  bread  on  a  platter.  She 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST.  193 

came  to  me  first.  It  was  then  I  saw  thy  mother,  and  loved 
her,  and  took  her  away  in  my  secret  heart.  After  a  while 
a  time  came  when  I  sought  the  prince  to  make  her  my 
wife.  He  told  me  she  was  bond-servant  forever ;  but  if 
she  wished,  he  would  set  her  free  that  I  might  be  gratified. 
She  gave  me  love  for  love,  but  was  happy  where  she  was, 
and  refused  her  freedom.  I  prayed  and  besought,  going 
again  and  again  after  long  intervals.  She  would  be  my 
wife,  she  all  the  time  said,  if  I  would  become  her  fellow  in 
servitude.  Our  father  Jacob  served  yet  other  seven  years 
for  his  Rachel.  Could  I  not  as  much  for  mine  ?  But  thy 
mother  said  I  must  become  as  she,  to  serve  forever.  1 
came  away,  but  went  back.  Look,  Esther,  look  here." 

He  pulled  out  the  lobe  of  his  loft  ear. 

"  See  you  not  the  scar  of  the  awl  ?" 

"  I  see  it,"  she  said ;  "  and,  oh,  I  see  how  thou  didst 
love  my  mother !" 

"  Love  her,  Esther  !  She  was  to  me  more  than  the  Shu- 
lamite  to  the  singing  king,  fairer,  more  spotless ;  a  foun 
tain  of  gardens,  a  well  of  living  waters,  and  streams  from 
Lebanon.  The  master,  even  as  I  required  him,  took  me 
to  the  judges,  and  back  to  his  door,  and  thrust  the  awl 
through  my  ear  into  the  door,  and  I  was  his  servant  for 
ever.  So  I  won  my  Rachel.  And  was  ever  love  like 
mine  ?" 

Esther  stooped  and  kissed  him,  and  they  were  silent, 
thinking  of  the  dead. 

"  My  master  was  drowned  at  sea,  the  first  sorrow  that 
ever  fell  upon  me,"  the  merchant  continued.  "  There  was 
mourning  in  his  house,  and  in  mine  here  in  Antioch,  my 
abiding-place  at  the  time.  Now,  Esther,  mark  you  !  When 
the  good  prince  was  lost,  I  had  risen  to  be  his  chief  stew 
ard,  with  everything  of  property  belonging  to  him  in  my 
management  and  control.  Judge  you  how  much  he  loved 
and  trusted  me !  I  hastened  to  Jerusalem  to  render  ac 
count  to  the  widow.  She  continued  me  in  the  steward 
ship.  I  applied  myself  with  greater  diligence.  The  busi 
ness  prospered,  and  grew  year  by  year.  Ten  years  passed  ; 
then  came  the  blow  which  you  heard  the  young  man  tell 
about  —  the  accident,  as  he  called  it,  to  the  Procurator 
13 


194  BEN-IIUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

Gratus.  Tlic  Roman  gave  it  out  an  attempt  to  assassinate 
him.  Under  that  pretext,  by  leave  from  Home,  he  confis 
cated  to  his  own  use  the  immense  fortune  of  the  widow 
and  children.  Nor  stopped  he  there.  That  there  might 
be  no  reversal  of  the  judgment,  he  removed  all  the  parties 
interested.  From  that  dreadful  day  to  this  the  family  of 
Hur  have  been  lost.  The  son,  whom  I  had  seen  as  a 
child,  was  sentenced  to  the  galleys.  The  widow  and 
daughter  are  supposed  to  have  been  buried  in  some  of  the 
many  dungeons  of  Judea,  which,  once  closed  upon  the 
doomed,  are  like  sepulchres  sealed  and  locked.  They 
passed  from  the  knowledge  of  men  as  utterly  as  if  the  sea 
had  swallowed  them  unseen.  We  could  not  hear  how 
they  died — nay,  not  even  that  they  were  dead." 

Esther's  eyes  were  dewy  with  tears. 

"  Thy  heart  is  good,  Esther,  good  as  thy  mother's  was  ; 
and  I  pray  it  have  not  the  fate  of  most  good  hearts — to  be 
trampled  upon  by  the  unmerciful  and  blind.  But  hearken 
further.  I  went  up  to  Jerusalem  to  give  help  to  my  bene 
factress,  and  was  seized  at  the  gate  of  the  city  and  carried 
to  the  sunken  cells  of  the  Tower  of  Antonia  ;  why,  I  knew 
not,  until  Gratus  himself  came  and  demanded  of  me  the 
moneys  of  the  House  of  Hur,  which  he  knew,  after  our 
Jewish  custom  of  exchange,  were  subject  to  my  draft  in 
the  different  marts  of  the  world.  He  required  me  to  sign 
to  his  order.  I  refused.  He  had  the  houses,  lands,  goods, 
ships,  and  movable  property  of  those  I  served ;  he  had 
not  their  moneys.  I  saw,  if  I  kept  favor  in  the  sight  of 
the  Lord,  I  could  rebuild  their  broken  fortunes.  I  re 
fused  the  tyrant's  demands.  He  put  me  to  torture ;  my 
will  held  good,  and  he  set  me  free,  nothing  gained.  I 
came  home  and  began  again,  in  the  name  of  Simonides  of 
Antioch,  instead  of  the  Prince  Hur  of  Jerusalem.  Thou 
knowest,  Esther,  how  I  have  prospered  ;  that  the  increase 
of  the  millions  of  the  prince  in  my  hands  was  miraculous  ; 
thou  knowest  how,  at  the  end  of  three  years,  while  going 
tip  to  Citsarea,  I  was  taken  and  a  second  time  tortured  by 
Gratus  to  compel  a  confession  that  my  goods  and  moneys 
were  subject  to  his  order  of  confiscation ;  thou  knowest 
he  failed  as  before.  Broken  in  body,  T  came  home  and 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  195 

found  my  Rachel  dead  of  fear  and  grief  for  me.  The 
Lord  our  God  reigned,  and  I  lived.  From  the  emperor 
himself  I  bought  immunity  and  license  to  trade  through 
out  the  world.  To-day — praised  be  lie  who  maketh  the 
clouds  his  chariot  and  walketh  upon  the  winds ! — to-day, 
Esther,  that  which  was  in  my  hands  for  stewardship  is 
multiplied  into  talents  sufficient  to  enrich  a  Csesar." 

He  lifted  his  head  proudly ;  their  eyes  met ;  each  read 
the  other's  thought.  "What  shall  I  with  the  treasure, 
Esther  ?"  he  asked,  without  lowering  his  gaze. 

"  My  father,"  she  answered,  in  a  low  voice,  "  did  not  the 
rightful  owner  call  for  it  but  now  ?" 

Still  his  look  did  not  fail. 

"  And  thou,  my  child  ;  shall  I  leave  thee  a  beggar  f ' 

"  Xay,  father,  am  not  I,  because  I  am  thy  child,  his 
bond  -  servant  ?  And  of  whom  was  it  written,  *  Strength 
and  honor  are  her  clothing,  and  she  shall  rejoice  in  time 
to  come '  ?" 

A  gleam  of  ineffable  love  lighted  his  face  as  he  said, 
"  The  Lord  hath  been  good  to  me  in  many  ways ;  but 
thou,  Esther,  art  the  sovereign  excellence  of  his  favor." 

lie  drew  her  to  his  breast  and  kissed  her  many  times. 

"  Hear  now,"  he  said,  with  clearer  voice — "  hear  now 
why  I  laughed  this  morning.  The  young  man  faced  me 
the  apparition  of  his  father  in  comely  youth.  My  spirit 
arose  to  salute  him.  I  felt  my  trial-days  were  over  and 
my  labors  ended.  Hardly  could  I  keep  from  crying  out. 
I  longed  to  take  him  by  the  hand  and  show  the  balance  I 
had  earned,  and  say,  '  Lo,  'tis  all  thine  !  and  I  am  thy  ser 
vant,  ready  now  to  be  called  away.'  And  so  I  would  have 
done,  Esther,  so  I  would  have  done,  but  that  moment  three 
thoughts  rushed  to  restrain  me.  I  will  be  sure  he  is  my 
master's  son — such  was  the  first  thought ;  if  he  is  my  mas 
ter's  son,  I  will  learn  somewhat  of  his  nature.  Of  those 
born  to  riches,  bethink  you,  Esther,  how  many  there  are  in 
whose  hands  riches  are  but  breeding  curses  " — he  paused, 
while  his  hands  clutched,  and  his  voice  shrilled  with  pas 
sion — "  Esther,  consider  the  pains  I  endured  at  the  Ro 
man's  hand's ;  nay,  not  Gratus's  alone :  the  merciless 
wretches  who  did  his  bidding  the  first  time  and  the  lat^t 


196  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

were  Romans,  and  they  all  alike  laughed  to  hear  me  scream. 
Consider  my  broken  body,  and  the  years  I  have  gone  shorn 
of  my  stature ;  consider  thy  mother  yonder  in  her  lonely 
tomb,  crashed  of  soul  as  I  of  body ;  consider  the  sorrows 
of  my  master's  family  if  they  are  living,  and  the  cruelty 
of  their  taking-off  if  they  are  dead  ;  consider  all,  and,  with 
Heaven's  love  about  thee,  tell  me,  daughter,  shall  not  a 
hair  fall  or  a  red  drop  run  in  expiation  ?  Tell  me  not,  as 
the  preachers  sometimes  do — tell  me  not  that  vengeance 
is  the  Lord's.  Does  he  not  work  his  will  harmfully  as 
well  as  in  love  by  agencies  ?  Has  he  not  his  men  of  war 
more  numerous  than  his  prophets  ?  Is  not  his  the  law, 
Eye  for  eye,  hand  for  hand,  foot  for  foot  ?  Oh,  in  all  these 
years  I  have  dreamed  of  vengeance,  and  prayed  and  pro 
vided  for  it,  and  gathered  patience  from  the  growing  of  my 
store,  thinking  and  promising,  as  the  Lord  liveth,  it  will 
one  day  buy  me  punishment  of  the  wrong-doers  ?  And 
when,  speaking  of  his  practice  with  arms,  the  young  man 
said  it  was  for  a  nameless  purpose,  I  named  the  purpose 
even  as  he  spoke  —  vengeance !  and  that,  Esther,  that  it 
was  —  the  third  thought  which  held  me  still  and  hard 
while  his  pleading  lasted,  and  made  me  laugh  when  he 
was  gone." 

Esther  caressed  the  faded  hands,  and  said,  as  if  her 
spirit  with  his  were  running  forward  to  results,  "  lie  is 
gone.  "Will  he  come  again  ?" 

"  Ay,  Malluch  the  faithful  goes  with  him,  and  will  bring 
him  back  Avhcn  I  am  ready." 

"  And  when  will  that  be,  father  ?" 

"  Not  long,  not  long.  He  thinks  all  his  witnesses  dead. 
There  is  one  living  who  will  not  fail  to  know  him,  if  he  be 
indeed  my  master's  son." 

"  His  mother  ?" 

"  Nay,  daughter,  I  will  set  the  witness  before  him  ;  till 
then  let  us  rest  the  business  with  the  Lord.  I  am  tired. 
Call  Abimelech." 

Esther  called  the  servant,  and  they  returned  into  the 
house. 


BEX-HUR:    A    TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  197 


CHAPTER  V. 

WHEN  Ben-Hur  sallied  from  the  great  warehouse,  it  was 
with  the  thought  that  another  failure  was  to  be  added  to 
the  many  he  had  already  met  in  the  quest  for  his  people  ; 
and  the  idea  was  depressing  exactly  in  proportion  as  the 
objects  of  his  quest  were  dear  to  him  ;  it  curtained  him 
round  about  with  a  sense  of  utter  loneliness  on  earth, 
which,  more  than  anything  else,  serves  to  eke  from  a  soul 
cast  down  its  remaining  interest  in  life. 

Through  the  people,  and  the  piles  of  goods,  he  made 
way  to  the  edge  of  the  landing,  and  was  tempted  by  the 
cool  shadows  darkening  the  river's  depth.  The  lazy  cur 
rent  seemed  to  stop  and  wait  for  him.  In  counteraction 
of  the  spell,  the  saying  of  the  voyager  flashed  into  mem 
ory — "  Better  be  a  worm,  and  feed  upon  the  mulberries  of 
Daphne,  than  a  king's  guest."  He  turned,  and  walked 
rapidly  down  the  landing  and  back  to  the  khan. 

"  The  road  to  Daphne !"  the  steward  said,  surprised  at 
the  question  Ben-Hur  put  to  him.  "  You  have  not  been 
here  before  ?  Well,  count  this  the  happiest  day  of  your 
life.  You  cannot  mistake  the  road.  The  next  street  to 
the  left,  going  south,  leads  straight  to  Mount  Sulpius, 
crowned  by  the  altar  of  Jupiter  and  the  Amphitheatre  ; 
keep  it  to  the  third  cross  street,  known  as  Herod's  Colon 
nade  ;  turn  to  your  right  there,  and  hold  the  way  through 
the  old  city  of  Seleucus  to  the  bronze  gates  of  Epiphanes. 
There  the  road  to  Daphne  begins — and  may  the  gods  keep 
you !" 

A  few  directions  respecting  his  baggage,  and  Ben-IIur 
set  out. 

The  Colonnade  of  Herod  was  easily  found ;  thence  to 
the  brazen  gates,  under  a  continuous  marble  portico,  he 
passed  with  a  multitude  mixed  of  people  from  all  the 
trading  nations  of  the  earth. 

It  was  about  the  fourth  hour  of  the  day  when  he  passed 


198  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

out  tlie  gate,  and  found  himself  one  of  a  procession  appar 
ently  interminable,  moving  to  the  famous  Grove.  The 
road  was  divided  into  separate  ways  for  footmen,  for  men 
on  horses,  and  men  in  chariots  ;  and  those  again  into  sepa 
rate  ways  for  outgoers  and  incomers.  The  lines  of  divis 
ion  were  guarded  by  low  balustrading,  broken  by  massive 
pedestals,  many  of  which  were  surmounted  with  statuary. 
Right  and  left  of  the  road  extended  margins  of  sward  per 
fectly  kept,  relieved  at  intervals  by  groups  of  oak  and  syc 
amore  trees,  and  vine-clad  summer-houses  for  the  accom 
modation  of  the  weary,  of  whom,  on  the  return  side,  there 
were  alway  multitudes.  The  ways  of  the  footmen  were 
paved  with  red  stone,  and  those  of  the  riders  strewn  with 
white  sand  compactly  rolled,  but  not  so  solid  as  to  give 
back  an  echo  to  hoof  or  wheel.  The  number  and  variety 
of  fountains  at  play  were  amazing,  all  gifts  of  visiting 
kings,  and  called  after  them.  Out  southwest  to  the  gates 
of  the  Grove,  the  magnificent  thoroughfare  stretched  a  lit 
tle  over  four  miles  from  the  city. 

In  his  wretchedness  of  feeling,  Ben-Hur  barely  observed 
the  royal  liberality  which  marked  the  construction  of  the 
road.  Nor  more  did  he  at  first  notice  the  crowd  going 
with  him.  He  treated  the  processional  displays  with  like 
indifference.  To  say  truth,  besides  his  self-absorption,  he 
had  not  a  little  of  the  complacency  of  a  Roman  visiting  the 
provinces  fresh  from  the  ceremonies  which  daily  eddied 
round  and  round  the  golden  pillar  set  up  by  Augustus  as 
the  centre  of  the  world.  It  was  not  possible  for  the  prov 
inces  to  offer  anything  new  or  superior.  He  rather  availed 
himself  of  every  opportunity  to  push  forward  through  the 
companies  in  the  way,  and  too  slow-going  for  his  impa 
tience.  By  the  time  he  reached  Hcracleia,  a  suburban 
village  intermediate  the  eity  and  the  Grove,  he  was  some 
what  spent  Avith  exercise,  and  began  to  be  susceptible  of 
entertainment.  Once  a  pair  of  goats  led  by  a  beautiful 
woman,  woman  and  goats  alike  brilliant  with  ribbons  and 
flowers,  attracted  his  attention.  Then  he  stopped  to  look 
at  a  bull  of  mighty  girth,  and  snowy-white,  covered  with 
vines  freshly  cut,  and  bearing  on  its  broad  back  a  naked 
child  in  a  basket,  the  image  of  a  young  Bacchus,  squeez- 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  199 

ing  the  juice  of  ripened  berries  into  a  goblet,  and  drinking 
with  libational  formulas.  As  he  resumed  his  walk,  he 
wondered  whose  altars  would  be  enriched  by  the  offerings. 
A  horse  went  by  with  clipped  mane,  after  the  fashion  of 
the  time,  his  rider  superbly  dressed.  He  smiled  to  ob 
serve  the  harmony  of  pride  between  the  man  and  the 
brute.  Often  after  that  he  turned  his  head  at  hearing  the 
rumble  of  wheels  and  the  dull  thud  of  hoofs  ;  unconsciously 
he  was  becoming  interested  in  the  styles  of  chariots  and 
charioteers,  as  they  rustled  past  him  going  and  coming. 
Nor  was  it  long  until  he  began  to  make  notes  of  the  peo 
ple  around  him.  He  saw  they  were  of  all  ages,  sexes,  and 
conditions,  and  all  in  holiday  attire.  One  company  was 
uniformed  in  white,  another  in  black ;  some  bore  flags, 
some  smoking  censers ;  some  went  slowly,  singing  hymns  ; 
others  stepped  to  the  music  of  flutes  and  tabrets.  If  such 
were  the  going  to  Daphne  every  day  in  the  year,  what  a 
wondrous  sight  Daphne  must  be !  At  last  there  was  a 
clapping  of  hands,  and  a  burst  of  joyous  cries ;  following 
the  pointing  of  many  fingers,  he  looked  and  saw  upon  the 
brow  of  a  hill  the  templed  gate  of  the  consecrated  Grove. 
The  hymns  swelled  to  louder  strains ;  the  music  quick 
ened  time ;  and,  borne  along  by  the  impulsive  current, 
and  sharing  the  common  eagerness,  he  passed  in,  and, 
Romanized  in  taste  as  he  was,  fell  to  worshipping  the 
place. 

Rearward  of  the  structure  which  graced  the  entrance- 
way — a  purely  Grecian  pile — he  stood  upon  a  broad  es 
planade  paved  with  polished  stone  ;  around  him  a  restless 
exclamatory  multitude,  in  gayest  colors,  relieved  against 
the  iridescent  spray  flying  crystal-white  from  fountains ; 
before  him,  off  to  the  southwest,  dustless  paths  radiated 
out  into  a  garden,  and  beyond  that  into  a  forest,  over  which 
rested  a  veil  of  pale-blue  vapor.  Ben-Hur  gazed  wistfully, 
uncertain  where  to  go.  A  woman  that  moment  exclaimed, 

"  Beautiful !     But  where  to  now  ?" 

Her  companion,  wearing  a  chaplet  of  bays,  laughed  and 
answered,  "  Go  to,  thou  pretty  barbarian  !  The  question 
implies  an  earthly  fear ;  and  did  we  not  agree  to  leave  all 
such  behind  in  Antioch  with  the  rusty  earth  ?  The  winds 


200  BEN-HUB:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

which  blow  here  are  respirations  of  the  gods.  Let  us  give 
ourselves  to  waftage  of  the  winds." 

"  But  if  we  should  get  lost  ?" 

"  0  thou  timid !  No  one  was  ever  lost  in  Daphne,  ex 
cept  those  on  whom  her  gates  close  forever." 

"  And  who  are  they  ?"  she  asked,  still  fearful. 

"  Such  as  have  yielded  to  the  charms  of  the  place  and 
chosen  it  for  life  and  death.  Hark !  Stand  we  here,  and 
I  will  show  you  of  whom  I  speak." 

Upon  the  marble  pavement  there  was  a  skurry  of  san 
dalled  feet ;  the  crowd  opened,  and  a  party  of  girls  rushed 
about  the  speaker  and  his  fair  friend,  and  began  singing 
and  dancing  to  the  tabrets  they  themselves  touched.  The 
woman,  scared,  clung  to  the  man,  who  put  an  arm  about 
her,  and,  with  kindled  face,  kept  time  to  the  music  with 
the  other  hand  overhead.  The  hair  of  the  dancers  floated 
free,  and  their  limbs  blushed  through  the  robes  of  gauze 
which  scarcely  draped  them.  Words  may  not  be  used  to 
tell  of  the  voluptuousness  of  the  dance.  One  brief  round, 
and  they  darted  off  through  the  yielding  crowd  lightly  as 
they  had  come. 

"  Now  what  think  you  ?"  cried  the  man  to  the  woman. 

"  Who  are  they  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Devadasi — priestesses  devoted  to  the  Temple  of  x\pollo. 
There  is  an  army  of  them.  They  make  the  chorus  in  cele 
brations.  This  is  their  home.  Sometimes  they  wander 
off  to  other  cities,  but  all  they  make  is  brought  here  to 
enrich  the  house  of  the  divine  musician.  Shall  we  go 
now  ?" 

Next  minute  the  two  were  gone. 

Ben-Hur  took  comfort  in  the  assurance  that  no  one  was 
ever  lost  in  Daphne,  and  he,  too,  set  out — where,  he  knew 
not. 

A  sculpture  reared  upon  a  beautiful  pedestal  in  the  gar 
den  attracted  him  first.  It  proved  to  be  the  statue  of  a 
centaur.  An  inscription  informed  the  unlearned  visitor 
that  it  exactly  represented  Chiron,  the  beloved  of  Apollo 
and  Diana,  instructed  by  them  in  the  mysteries  of  hunting, 
medicine,  music,  and  prophecy.  The  inscription  also  bade 
the  stranger  look  out  at  a  certain  part  of  the  heavens,  at 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  201 

certain  hour  of  the  clear  night,  and  he  would  behold  the 
dead  alive  among  the  stars,  whither  Jupiter  had  transferred 
the  good  genius. 

The  wisest  of  the  centaurs  continued,  nevertheless,  in 
the  service  of  mankind.  In  his  hand  he  held  a  scroll,  on 
which,  graven  in  Greek,  were  paragraphs  of  a  notice  : 

"  0  Traveller ! 
"Art  them  a  stranger? 

"  I.  Hearken  to  tlie  singing  of  the  brooks,  and  fear  not  the  rain  of 
the  fountains  ;  so  will  the  Naiades  learn  to  love  thee. 

"II.  The  invited  breezes  of  Daphne  are  Zephyrus  and  Auster ;  gen 
tle  ministers  of  life,  they  will  gather  sweets  for  thee ;  when  Earns 
blows,  Diana  is  elsewhere  hunting;  when  Boreas  blusters,  go  hide,  for 
Apollo  is  angry. 

"III.  The  shades  of  the  Grove  are  thine  in  the  day;  at  night  they 
belong  to  Pan  and  his  Dryades.  Disturb  them  not. 

"IV.  Eat  of  the  Lotus  by  the  brooksides  sparingly,  unless  thou 
wouldst  have  surcease  of  memory,  which  is  to  become  a  child  of 
Daphne. 

"  V.  Walk  thou  round  the  weaving  spider — 'tis  Arachne  at  work 
for  Minerva. 

"VI.  Wouldst  thou  behold  the  tears  of  Daphne,  break  but  a  bud 
from  a  laurel  bough — and  die. 

"Heed  thou ! 
"  And  stay  and  be  happy." 

Ben-IIur  left  the  interpretation  of  the  mystic  notice  to 
others  fast  enclosing  him,  and  turned  away  as  the  white 
hull  was  led  by.  The  boy  sat  in  the  basket,  followed  by 
a  procession  ;  after  them  again,  the  woman  with  the  goats  ; 
and  behind  her  the  flute  and  tabret  players,  and  another 
procession  of  gift-bringers. 

"  Whither  go  they  ?"  asked  a  bystander. 

Another  made  answer,  "  The  bull  to  Father  Jove ;  the 
goat — 

"  Did  not  Apollo  once  keep  the  flocks  of  Admctus  ?" 

"  Ay,  the  goat  to  Apollo  !" 

The  goodness  of  the  reader  is  again  besought  in  favor 
of  an  explanation.  A  certain  facility  of  accommodation 
in  the  matter  of  religion  comes  to  us  after  much  intercourse 
witli  people  of  a  different  faith;  gradually  we  attain  the 
truth  that:  every  creed  is  illustrated  by  good  men  who  arc 
entitled  to  our  respect,  but  whom  we  cannot  respect  with- 


202  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

out  courtesy  to  their  creed.  To  this  point  Ben-Hat  h:ul 
arrived.  Neither  the  years  in  Rome  nor  those  in  the  gal 
ley  had  made  any  impression  upon  his  religious  faith  :  he 
was  yet  a  Jew.  In  his  view,  nevertheless,  it  was  not  an 
impiety  to  look  for  the  beautiful  in  the  Grove  of  Daphne. 

The  remark  does  not  interdict  the  further  saying,  if  his 
scruples  had  been  ever  so  extreme,  not  improbably  he  would 
at  this  time  have  smothered  them.  He  was  angry  ;  not  as 
the  irritable,  from  chafing  of  a  trifle  ;  nor  was  his  anger  like 
the  fool's,  pumped  from  the  wells  of  nothing,  to  be  dissi 
pated  by  a  reproach  or  a  curse ;  it  was  the  wrath  peculiar 
to  ardent  natures  rudely  awakened  by  the  sudden  annihila 
tion  of  a  hope — dream,  if  you  will — in  which  the  choicest 
happinesses  were  thought  to  be  certainly  in  reach.  In  such 
case  nothing  intermediate  will  carry  off  the  passion — the 
quarrel  is  with  Fate. 

Let  us  follow  the  philosophy  a  little  further,  and  say  to 
ourselves,  it  were  well  in  such  quarrels  if  Fate  were  some 
thing  tangible,  to  be  despatched  with  a  look  or  a  blow,  or 
a  speaking  personage  with  whom  high  words  were  possible ; 
then  the  unhappy  mortal  would  not  always  end  the  affair 
by  punishing  himself. 

In  ordinary  mood,  Ben-IIur  would  not  have  come  to  the 
Grove  alone,  or,  coming  alone,  he  would  have  availed  him 
self  of  his  position  in  the  consul's  family,  and  made  pro 
vision  against  wandering  idly  about,  unknowing  and  un 
known  ;  he  would  have  had  all  the  points  of  interest  in 
mind,  and  gone  to  them  under  guidance,  as  in  the  despatch 
of  business  ;  or,  wishing  to  squander  days  of  leisure  in  the 
beautiful  place,  he  would  have  had  in  hand  a  letter  to  the 
master  of  it  all,  whoever  he  might  be.  This  would  have 
made  him  a  sightseer,  like  the  shouting  herd  he  was  ac 
companying  ;  whereas  he  had  no  reverence  for  the  deities 
of  the  Grove,  nor  curiosity  ;  a  man  in  the  blindness  of  bit 
ter  disappointment,  he  was  adrift,  not  waiting  for  Fate, 
but  seeking  it  as  a  desperate  challenger. 

Every  one  has  known  this  condition  of  mind,  though 
perhaps  not  all  in  the  same  degree ;  every  one  will  recog 
nize  it  as  the  condition  in  which  he  has  done  brave  things 
with  apparent  serenity ;  and  every  one  reading  will  say, 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  203 

Fortunate  for  Ben-Hur  if  the  folly  which  now  catches  him 
is  but  a  friendly  harlequin  with  whistle  and  painted  cap, 
and  not  some  Violence  with  a  pointed  sword  pitiless. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

BEN-HUR  entered  the  woods  with  the  processions.  He 
had  not  interest  enough  at  first  to  ask  where  they  were  go 
ing  ;  yet,  to  relieve  him  from  absolute  .indifference,  he  had 
a  vague  impression  that  they  were  in  movement  to  the 
temples,  which  were  the  central  objects  of  the  Grove,  su 
preme  in  attractions. 

Presently,  as  singers  dreamfully  play  with  a  flitting  cho 
rus,  he  began  repeating  to  himself,  "  Better  be  a  worm,  and 
feed  on  the  mulberries  of  Daphne,  than  a  king's  guest." 
Then  of  the  much  repetition  arose  questions  importunate 
of  answer.  AVas  life  in  the  Grove  so  very  sweet  ?  Wherein 
was  the  charm  ?  Did  it  lie  in  some  tangled  depth  of  phi 
losophy  ?  Or  was  it  something  in  fact,  something  on  the 
surface,  discernible  to  every-day  wakeful  senses  ?  Every 
year  thousands,  forswearing  the  world,  gave  themselves  to 
service  here.  Did  they  find  the  charm  ?  And  was  it  suffi 
cient,  when  found,  to  induce  forgetfulness  profound  enough 
to  shut  out  of  mind  the  infinitely  diverse  things  of  life  ? 
those  that  sweeten  and  those  that  embitter  ?  hopes  hover 
ing  in  the  near  future  as  well  as  sorrows  born  of  the  past  ? 
If  the  Grove  were  so  good  for  them,  why  should  it  not  be 
good  for  him  ?  He  was  a  Jew  ;  could  it  be  that  the  excel 
lences  were  for  all  the  world  but  children  of  Abraham? 
Forthwith  he  bent  all  his  faculties  to  the  task  of  discovery, 
unmindful  of  the  singing  of  the  gift-bringers  and  the  quips 
of  his  associates. 

In  the  quest,  the  sky  yielded  him  nothing ;  it  was  blue, 
very  blue,  and  full  of  twittering  swallows — so  was  the  sky 
over  the  city. 

Farther  on,  out  of  the  woods  at  his  right  hand,  a  breeze 
poured  across  the  road,  splashing  him  with  a  wave  of  sweet 
smells,  blent  of  roses  and  consuming  spices.  He  stopped, 
as  did  others,  looking  the  way  the  breeze  came. 


204  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  A  garden  over  there  ?"  lie  said,  to  a  man  at  his  elbow. 

'•  Rather  some  priestly  ceremony  in  performance — some 
thing  to  Diana,  or  Pan,  or  a  deity  of  the  woods." 

The  answer  was  in  his  mother  tongue.  Ben-IIur  gave 
the  speaker  a  surprised  look. 

"  A  Hebrew  ?"  he  asked  him. 

The  man  replied  with  a  deferential  smile, 

"  I  was  born  within  a  stone's-throw  of  the  market-place 
in  Jerusalem." 

Ben-IIur  was  proceeding  to  further  speech,  when  the 
crowd  surged  forward,  thrusting  him  out  on  the  side  of  the 
walk  next  the  woods,  and  carrying  the  stranger  away.  The 
customary  gown  and  staff,  a  brown  cloth  on  the  head  tied 
by  a  yellow  rope,  and  a  strong  Judean  face  to  avouch  the 
garments  of  honest  right,  remained  in  the  young  man's 
mind,  a  kind  of  summary  of  the  man. 

This  took  place  at  a  point  where  a  path  into  the  woods 
began,  offering  a  happy  escape  from  the  noisy  processions. 
Ben-Hur  availed  himself  of  the  offer. 

He  walked  first  into  a  thicket  which,  from  the  road,  ap 
peared  in  a  state  of  nature,  close,  impenetrable,  a  nesting- 
place  for  wild  birds.  A  few  steps,  however,  gave  him  to 
see  the  master's  hand  even  there.  The  shrubs  were  flow 
ering  or  fruit-bearing ;  under  the  bending  branches  the 
ground  was  pranked  with  brightest  blooms  ;  over  them  the 
jasmine  stretched  its  delicate  bonds.  From  lilac  and  rose, 
and  lily  and  tulip,  from  oleander  and  strawberry-tree,  all 
old  friends  in  the  gardens  of  the  valleys  about  the  city  of 
David,  the  air,  lingering  or  in  haste,  loaded  itself  with  ex 
halations  day  and  night ;  and  that  nothing  might  be  want 
ing  to  the  happiness  of  the  nymphs  and  naiads,  down 
through  the  flower-lighted  shadows  of  the  mass  a  brook 
went  its  course  gently,  and  by  many  winding  ways. 

Out  of  the  thicket,  as  he  proceeded,  on  his  right  and  left, 
issued  the  cry  of  the  pigeon  and  the  cooing  of  turtle-doves ; 
blackbirds  waited  for  him,  and  bided  his  coming  close  ;  a 
nightingale  kept  its  place  fearless,  though  he  passed  in 
arm's-length ;  a  quail  ran  before  him  at  his  feet,  whistling 
to  the  brood  she  was  leading,  and  as  he  paused  for  them 
to  get  out  of  his  way,  a  figure  crawled  from  a  bed  of  honeyed 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  206 

musk  brilliant  with  balls  of  golden  blossoms.  Ben-llur  was 
startled.  Had  he,  indeed,  been  permitted  to  see  a  satyr  at 
home  ?  The  creature  looked  up  at  him,  and  showed  in  its 
teeth  a  hooked  priming-knife  ;  he  smiled  at  his  own  scare, 
and,  lo  !  the  charm  was  evolved  !  Peace  without  fear — 
peace  a  universal  condition — that  it  was  ! 

He  sat  upon  the  ground  beneath  a  citron-tree,  which 
spread  its  gray  roots  sprawling  to  receive  a  branch  of  the 
brook.  The  nest  of  a  titmouse  hung  close  to  the  bubbling 
water,  and  the  tiny  creature  looked  out  of  the  door  of  the 
nest  into  his  eyes.  "  Verily,  the  bird  is  interpreting  to 
me,"  he  thought.  "  It  says,  '  I  am  not  afraid  of  you,  for 
the  law  of  this  happy  place  is  Love.'  " 

The  charm  of  the  Grove  seemed  plain  to  him  ;  he  was 
glad,  and  determined  to  render  himself  one  of  the  lost  in 
Daphne.  In  charge  of  the  flowers  and  shrubs,  and  watch 
ing  the  growth  of  all  the  dumb  excellences  everywhere  to 
be  seen,  could  not  he,  like  the  man  with  the  pruning-kuife 
in  his  mouth,  forego  the  days  of  his  troubled  life — forego 
them  forgetting  and  forgotten  ? 

But  by-and-by  his  Jewish  nature  began  to  stir  within 
him. 

The  charm  might  be  sufficient  for  some  people.  Of 
what  kind  were  they  ? 

Love  is  delightful — ah !  how  pleasant  as  a  successor  to 
wretchedness  like  his.  But  was  it  all  there  was  of  life? 
All? 

There  was  an  unlikeness  between  him  and  those  who 
buried  themselves  contentedly  here.  They  had  no  duties 
- — they  could  not  have  had  ;  but  he — 

"  God  of  Israel !"  he  cried  aloud,  springing  to  his  feet, 
with  burning  cheeks — "  Mother  !  Tirzah  !  Cursed  be  the 
moment,  cursed  the  place,  in  which  I  yield  myself  happy 
in  your  loss !" 

lie  hurried  away  through  the  thicket,  and  came  to  a 
stream  flowing  with  the  volume  of  a  river  between  banks 
of  masonry,  broken  at  intervals  by  gated  sluiceways.  A 
bridge  carried  the  path  he  was  traversing  across  the  stream; 
and,  standing  upon  it,  he  saw  other  bridges,  no  two  of  them 
alike.  Under  him  the  water  was  lying  in  a  deep  pool,  clear 


206  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST. 

as  a  shadow ;  down  a  little  way  it  tumbled  with  a  roar 
over  rocks ;  then  there  was  another  pool,  and  another  cas 
cade  ;  and  so  on,  out  of  view ;  and  bridges  and  pools  and 
resounding  cascades  said,  plainly  as  inarticulate  things  can 
tell  a  story,  the  river  was  running  by  permission  of  a  mas 
ter,  exactly  as  the  master  would  have  it,  tractable  as  be 
came  a  servant  of  the  gods. 

Forward  from  the  bridge  he  beheld  a  landscape  of  wide 
valleys  and  irregular  heights,  with  groves  and  lakes  and 
fanciful  houses  linked  together  by  white  paths  and  shining 
streams.  The  valleys  wrere  spread  below,  that  the  river 
might  be  paured  upon  them  for  refreshment  in  days  of 
drought,  and  they  were  as  green  carpets  figured  with  beds 
and  fields  of  flowers,  and  flecked  with  flocks  of  sheep  white 
as  balls'of  snow ;  and  the  voices  of  shepherds  following 
the  fk>cks  were  heard  afar.  As  if  to  tell  him  of  the  pious 
inscription  of  all  he  beheld,  the  altars  out  under  the  open 
sky  seemed  countless,  each  with  a  white-gowned  figure  at 
tending  it,  while  processions  in  white  went  slowly  hither 
and  thither  between  them ;  and  the  snjoke  of  the  altars 
half-risen  hung  collected  in  pale  clouds  over  the  devoted 
places. 

Here,  there,  happy  in  flight,  intoxicated  in  pause,  from 
object  to  object,  point  to  point,  now  in  the  meadow,  now 
on  the  heights,  now  lingering  to  penetrate  the  groves  and 
observe  the  processions,  then  lost  in  efforts  to  pursue  the 
paths  and  streams  which  trended  mazily  into  dim  perspec 
tives  to  end  finally  in —  Ah,  what  might  be  a  fitting  end 
to  scene  so  beautiful !  What  adequate  mysteries  were 
hidden  behind  an  introduction  so  marvellous !  Here  and 
there,  the  speech  was  beginning,  his  gaze  wandered,  so  he 
could  not  help  the  conviction,  forced  by  the  view,  and  as 
the  sum  of  it  all,  that  there  was  peace  in  the  air  and  on  the 
earth,  and  invitation  everywhere  to  come  and  lie  down  here 
and  be  at  rest. 

Suddenly  a  revelation  dawned  upon  him — the  Grove  was, 
in  fact,  a  temple — one  far-reaching,  wall-less  temple  ! 

Never  anything  like  it ! 

The  architect  had  not  stopped  to  pother  about  columns 
and  porticos,  proportions  or  interiors,  or  any  limitation 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  207 

upon  the  epic  he  sought  to  materialize ;  he  had  simply 
made  a  servant  of  Nature — art  can  go  no  further.  So  the 
cunning  son  of  Jupiter  and  Callisto  built  the  okl  Arcadia; 
and  in  this,  as  in  that,  the  genius  was  Greek. 

From  the  bridge  Ben-Hur  went  forward  into  the  nearest 
valley. 

lie  came  to  a  flock  of  sheep.  The  shepherd  was  a  girl, 
and  she  beckoned  him,  "  Come  !" 

Farther  on,  the  path  was  divided  by  an  altar — a  pedestal 
of  black  gneiss,  capped  with  a  slab  of  white  marble  deftly 
foliated,  and  on  that  a  brazier  of  bronze  holding  a  fire. 
Close  by  it,  a  woman,  seeing  him,  waved  a  wand  of  willow, 
and  as  he  passed  called  him,  "  Stay !"  And  the  tempta 
tion  in  her  smile  was  that  of  passionate  youth. 

On  yet  farther,  he  met  one  of  the  processions ;  at  its 
head  a  troop  of  little  girls,  nude  except  as  they  wftre  cov 
ered  with  garlands,  piped  their  shrill  voices  into  a  song ; 
then  a  troop  of  boys,  also  nude,  their  bodies  deeply  sun- 
browned,  came  dancing  to  the  song  of  the  girls ;  behind 
them  the  procession,  all  women,  bearing  baskets  of  spices 
and  sweets  to  the  altars — women  clad  in  simple  robes,  care 
less  of  exposure.  As  he  went  by  they  held  their  hands  to 
him,  and  said,  "  Sthy,  and  go  with  us."  One,  a  Greek,  sang 
a  verse  from  Anacreon  : 

"For  to-day  I  take  or  give; 
For  to-day  I  drink  and  live; 
For  to-day  I  beg  or  borrow ; 
Who  knows  about  the  silent  morrow?" 

But  he  pursued  his  way  indifferent,  and  came  next  to  a 
grove  luxuriant,  in  the  heart  of  the  vale  at  the  point  where 
it  would  be  most  attractive  to  the  observing  eye.  As  it 
came  close  to  the  path  he  was  travelling,  there  was  a  seduc 
tion  in  its  shade,  and  through  the  foliage  he  caught  the 
shining  of  what  appeared  a  pretentious  statue ;  so  he  turned 
aside,  and  entered  the  cool  retreat. 

The  grass  was  fresh  and  clean.  The  trees  did  not  crowd 
each  other  ;  and  they  were  of  every  kind  native  to  the  East, 
blended  well  with  strangers  adopted  from  far  quarters ; 
here  grouped  in  exclusive  companionship  palm-trees  plumed 
like  queens;  there  sycamores,  overtopping  laurels  of  dark- 


208  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  TIIE   CHRIST. 

or  foliage  ;  and  evergreen  oaks  rising  verdantly,  with  cedars 
vast  enough  to  be  kings  on  Lebanon  ;  and  mulberries  ;  and 
terebinths  so  beautiful  it  is  not  hyperbole  to  speak  of  them 
as  blown  from  the  orchards  of  Paradise. 

The  statue  proved  to  be  a  Daphne  of  wondrous  beauty. 
Hardly,  however,  had  he  time  to  more  than  glance  at  her 
face :  at  the  base  of  the  pedestal  a  girl  and  a  youth  were 
lying  upon  a  tiger's  skin  asleep  in  each  other's  arms  ;  close 
by  them  the  implements  of  their  service — his  axe  and 
sickle,  her  basket — flung  carelessly  upon  a  heap  of  fading 
roses. 

The  exposure  startled  him.  Back  in  the  hush  of  the  per> 
fumed  thicket  he  discovered,  as  he  thought,  that  the  charm 
of  the  great  Grove  was  peace  without  fear,  and  almost 
yielded  to  it ;  now,  in  this  sleep  in  the  day's  broad  glare — 
this  sleep  at  the  feet  of  Daphne — he  read  a  further  chapter 
to  which  only  the  vaguest  allusion  is  sufferable.  The  law 
of  the  place  was  Love,  but  Love  without  Law. 

And  this  was  the  sweet  peace  of  Daphne  ! 

This  the  life's  end  of  her  ministers  ! 

For  this  kings  and  princes  gave  of  their  revenues ! 

For  this  a  crafty  priesthood  subordinated  Xature — her 
birds  and  brooks  and  lilies,  the  river,  the  labor  of  many 
hands,  the  sanctity  of  altars,  the  fertile  power  of  the  sun  ! 

It  would  be  pleasant  now  to  record  that  as  Ben-Hur  pur 
sued  his  walk  assailed  by  such  reflections,  he  yielded  some 
what  to  sorrow  for  the  votaries  of  the  great  out-door  tem 
ple  ;  especially  for  those  who,  by  personal  service,  kept  it 
in  a  state  so  surpassingly  lovely.  How  they  came  to  the 
condition  was  not  any  longer  a  mystery ;  the  motive,  the 
influence,  the  inducement,  were  before  him.  Some  there 
were,  no  doubt,  caught  by  the  promise  held  out  to  their 
troubled  spirits  of  endless  peace  in  a  consecrated  abode,  to 
the  beauty  of  which,  if  they  had  not  money,  they  could 
contribute  their  labor  ;  this  class  implied  intellect  peculiar 
ly  subject  to  hope  and  fear ;  but  the  great  body  of  the 
faithful  could  not  be  classed  with  such.  Apollo's  nets 
were  wide,  and  their  meshes  small ;  and  hardly  may  one 
tell  what  all  his  fishermen  landed :  this  less  for  that  they 
cannot  be  described  than  because  they  ought  not  to  be. 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  209 

Enough  that  the  mass  were  of  the  sybarites  of  the  world, 
and  of  the  herds  in  number  vaster  and  in  degree  lower — 
devotees  of  the  unmixed  sensualism  to  which  the  East  was 
almost  wholly  given.  Not  to  any  of  the  exaltations — not 
to  the  singing-god,  or  his  unhappy  mistress ;  not  to  any 
philosophy  requiring  for  its  enjoyment  the  calm  of  retire 
ment,  nor  to  any  service  for  the  comfort  there  is  in  religion, 
nor  to  love  in  its  holier  sense — were  they  abiding  their 
vows.  Good  reader,  why  shall  not  the  truth  be  told  here  ? 
Why  not  learn  that,  at  this  age,  there  were  in  all  earth 
but  two  peoples  capable  of  exaltations  of  the  kind  referred 
to — those  who  lived  by  the  law  of  Moses,  and  those  who 
lived  by  the  law  of  Brahma.  They  alone  could  have  cried 
you,  Better  a  law  without  love  than  a  love  without  law. 

Besides  that,  sympathy  is  in  great  degree  a  result  of  the 
jnood  we  arc  in  at  the  moment:  anger  forbids  the  emotion. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  easiest  taken  on  when  we  are  in  a 
state  of  most  absolute  self-satisfaction.  Ben-IIur  walked 
with  a  quicker  step,  holding  his  head  higher ;  and,  while 
not  less  sensitive  to  the  delightfulness  of  all  about  him,  he 
made  his  survey  with  calmer  spirit,  though  sometimes  witli 
curling  lip  ;  that  is  to  say,  he  could  not  so  soon  forget  how 
nearly  he  himself  had  been  imposed  upon. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IN  front  of  Ben-IIur  there  was  a  forest  of  cypress-trees, 
each  a  column  tall  and  straight  as  a  mast.  Venturing  into 
the  shady  precinct,  he  heard  a  trumpet  gayly  blown,  and 
an  instant  after  saw  lying  upon  the  grass  close  by  the 
countryman  whom  he  had  run  up^n  in  the  road  going  to 
the  temples.  The  man  arose,  and  came  to  him. 

"  I  give  you  peace  again,"  he  said,  pleasantly. 

"  Thank  you,"  Ben-IIur  replied,  then  asked,  "  Go  you  my 
way  ?" 

"  I  am  for  the  stadium,  if  that  is  your  way." 

"  The  stadium  !" 

"  Yes.     The  trumpet  you  heard  but  now  was  a  call  for 
the  competitors." 
14 


210  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  Good  friend,"  said  Ben-Hur,  frankly,  "  I  admit  my  ig 
norance  of  the  Grove ;  and  if  you  will  let  me  be  your  fol 
lower,  I  will  be  glad." 

"  That  will  delight  me.  Hark  !  I  hear  the  wheels  of  the 
chariots.  They  are  taking  the  track." 

Ben-Hur  listened  a  moment,  then  completed  the  intro 
duction  by  laying  his  hand  upon  the  man's  arm,  and  say 
ing,  "  I  am  the  son  of  Arrius,  the  duumvir,  and  thou  ?" 

"  I  am  Malluch,  a  merchant  of  Antioch." 

"  Well,  good  Malluch,  the  trumpet,  and  the  gride  of 
wheels,  and  the  prospect  of  diversion  excite  me.  I  have 
some  skill  in  the  exercises.  In  the  palaestrae  of  Rome  I  am 
not  unknown.  Let  us  to  the  course." 

Malluch  lingered  to  say,  quickly,  "  The  duumvir  was  a 
Roman,  yet  I  see  his  son  in  the  garments  of  a  Jew." 

"  The  noble  Arrius  was  my  father  by  adoption,"  Ben- 
llur  answered. 

"  Ah  !  I  sec,  and  beg  pardon." 

Passing  through  the  belt  of  forest,  they  came  to  a  field 
with  a  track  laid  out  upon  it,  in  shape  and  extent  exactly 
like  those  of  the  stadia.  The  course,  or  track  proper,  was 
of  soft  earth,  rolled  and  sprinkled,  and  on  both  sides  de 
fined  by  ropes,  stretched  loosely  upon  upright  javelins. 
For  the  accommodation  of  spectators,  and  such  as  had  in 
terests  reaching  forward  of  the  mere  practice,  there  were 
several  stands  shaded  by  substantial  awnings,  and  provided 
with  seats  in  rising  rows.  In  one  of  the  stands  the  two 
new-comers  found  places. 

Ben-Hur  counted  the  chariots  as  they  went  by — nine  in 
all. 

"  I  commend  the  fellows,"  he  said,  with  good-will. 
"  Here  in  the  East,  I  thought  they  aspired  to  nothing  bet 
ter  than  the  two ;  but  they  are  ambitious,  and  play  with 
royal  fours.  Let  us  study  their  performance." 

Eight  of  the  fours  passed  the  stand,  some  walking,  others 
en  the  trot,  and  all  unexceptionally  handled  ;  then  the  ninth 
one  came  on  the  gallop.  Ben-Hur  burst  into  exclamation. 

"  I  have  been  in  the  stables  of  the  emperor,  Malluch,  but, 
by  our  father  Abraham  of  blessed  memory !  I  never  saw 
the  iikc  of  these." 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  211 

The  last  four  was  then  sweeping  past.  All  at  once  they 
fell  into  confusion.  Some  one  on  the  stand  uttered  a  sharp 
cry.  Ben-IIur  turned,  and  saw  an  old  man  half-risen  from 
an  upper  seat,  his  hands  clenched  and  raised,  his  eyes 
fiercely  bright,  his  long  white  beard  fairly  quivering. 
Some  of  the  spectators  nearest  him  began  to  laugh. 

"  They  should  respect  his  beard  at  least.  Who  is  he  ?" 
asked  Ben-IIur. 

"  A  mighty  man  from  the  Desert,  somewhere  beyond 
Moab,  and  owner  of  camels  in  herds,  and  horses  descended, 
they  say,  from  the  racers  of  the  first  Pharaoh — Sheik  Ilde- 
rim  by  name  and  title." 

Thus  Malluch  replied. 

The  driver  meanwhile  exerted  himself  to  quiet  the  four, 
but  without  avail.  Each  ineffectual  effort  excited  the  sheik 
the  more. 

"  Abaddon  seize  him !"  yelled  the  patriarch,  shrilly. 
"  Run  !  fly  !  do  you  hear,  my  children  ?"  The  question 
was  to  his  attendants,  apparently  of  the  tribe.  "  Do  you 
hear?  They  are  Desert -born,  like  yourselves.  Catch 
them — quick  I1' 

The  plunging  of  the  animals  increased. 

"  Accursed  Roman  !"  and  the  sheik  shook  his  fist  at  the 
driver.  "  Did  he  not  swear  he  could  drive  them — swear  it 
by  all  his  brood  of  bastard  Latin  gods  ?  Nay,  hands  off  me 
— off,  I  say !  They  should  run  swift  as  eagles,  and  with 
the  temper  of  hand-bred  lambs,  he  swore.  Cursed  be  he — 
cursed  the  mother  of  liars  who  calls  him  son !  See  them, 
the  priceless !  Let  him  touch  one  of  them  with  a  lash, 
and  " — the  rest  of  the  sentence  was  lost  in  a  furious  grind 
ing  of  his  teeth.  "  To  their  heads,  some  of  you,  and  speak 
them — a  word,  one  is  enough,  from  the  tent-song  your 
mothers  sang  you.  Oh,  fool,  fool  that  I  was  to  put  trust 
in  a  Roman !" 

Some  of  the  shrewder  of  the  old  man's  friends  planted 
themselves  between  him  and  the  horses.  An  opportune 
failure  of  breath  on  his  part  helped  the  stratagem. 

Ben-IIur,  thinking  he  comprehended  the  sheik,  sympa 
thized  with  him.  Far  more  than  mere  pride  of  property — 
more  than  anxiety  for  the  result  of  the  race — in  his  view  it 


212  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

was  within  the  possible  for  the  patriarch,  according  to  his 
habits  of  thought  and  his  ideas  of  the  inestimable,  to  love 
such  animals  with  a  tenderness  akin  to  the  most  sensitive 
passion. 

They  were  all  bright  bays,  unspotted,  perfectly  matched, 
and  so  proportioned  as  to  seem  less  than  they  really  were. 
Delicate  ears  pointed  small  heads ;  the  faces  were  broad  and 
full  between  the  eyes  ;  the  nostrils  in  expansion  disclosed 
membrane  so  deeply  red  as  to  suggest  the  flashing  of  flame ; 
the  necks  were  arches,  overlaid  with  fine  mane  so  abun 
dant  as  to  drape  the  shoulders  and  breast,  while  in  happy 
consonance  the  forelocks  were  like  raveilings  of  silken  veils ; 
between  the  knees  and  the  fetlocks  the  legs  were  flat  as  an 
open  hand,  but  above  the  knees  they  were  rounded  with 
mighty  muscles,  needful  to  upbear  the  shapely  close-knit 
bodies  ;  the  hoofs  were  like  cups  of  polished  agate  ;  and  in 
rearing  and  plunging  they  whipped  the  air,  and  sometimes 
the  earth,  with  tails  glossy-black  and  thick  and  long.  The 
sheik  spoke  of  them  as  the  priceless,  and  it  was  a  good  say 
ing. 

In  this  second  and  closer  look  at  the  horses,  Ben-IIur 
read  the  story  of  their  relation  to  their  master.  They  had 
grown  up  under  his  eyes,  objects  of  his  special  care  in  the 
day,  his  visions  of  pride  in  the  night,  with  his  family  at 
home  in  the  black  tent  out  on  the  shadeless  bosom  of  the 
desert,  as  his  children  beloved.  That  they  might  win  him 
a  triumph  over  the  haughty  and  hated  Roman,  the  old  man 
had  brought  his  loves  to  the  city,  never  doubting  they  would 
win,  if  only  he  could  find  a  trusty  expert  to  take  them  in 
hand  ;  not  merely  one  with  skill,  but  of  a  spirit  which  their 
spirits  would  acknowledge.  Unlike  the  colder  people  of 
the  West,  he  could  not  protest  the  driver's  inability,  and 
dismiss  him  civilly  ;  an  Arab  and  a  sheik,  he  had  to  explode, 
and  rive  the  air  about  him  with  clamor. 

Before  the  patriarch  was  done  with  his  expletives,  a  dozen 
hands  were  a,t  the  bits  of  the  horses,  and  their  quiet  assured. 
About  that  time,  another  chariot  appeared  upon  the  track; 
and,  unlike  the  others,  driver,  vehicle,  and  racers  were  pre 
cisely  as  they  would  be  presented  in  the  Circus  the  day  of 
final  trial.  For  a  reason  which  will  presently  be  more  ap 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  213 

parent,  it  is  desirable  now  to  give  this  turnout  plainly  to 
the  reader. 

There  should  be  no  difficulty  in  understanding  the  car 
riage  known  to  us  all  as  the  chariot  of  classical  renown. 
One  has  but  to  picture  to  himself  a  dray  with  low  wheels 
and  broad  axle,  surmounted  by  a  box  open  at  the  tail-end. 
Such  was  the  primitive  pattern.  Artistic  genius  came  along 
in  time,  and,  touching  the  rude  machine,  raised  it  into  a 
thing  of  beauty — that,  for  instance,  in  which  Aurora,  riding 
in  advance  of  the  dawn,  is  given  to  our  fancy. 

The  jockeys  of  the  ancients,  quite  as  shrewd  and  ambi 
tious  as  their  successors  of  the  present,  called  their  humblest 
turnout  a  two,  and  their  best  in  grade  a,  four  ;  in  the  latter, 
they  contested  the  Olympics  and  the  other  festal  shows 
founded  in  imitation  of  them. 

The  same  sharp  gamesters  preferred  to  put  their  horses 
to  the  chariot  all  abreast ;  and  for  distinction  they  termed 
the  two  next  the  pole  yoke-steeds,  and  those  on  the  right 
and  left  outside  trace-mates.  It  was  their  judgment,  also, 
that,  by  allowing  the  fullest  freedom  of  action,  the  greatest 
speed  was  attainable  ;  accordingly,  the  harness  resorted  to 
was  peculiarly  simply  ;  in  fact,  there  was  nothing  of  it  save 
a  collar  round  the  animal's  neck,  and  a  trace  fixed  to  the 
collar,  unless  the  lines  and  a  halter  fall  within  the  term. 
Wanting  to  hitch  up,  the  masters  pinned  a  narrow  wooden 
yoke,  or  cross-tree,  near  the  end  of  the  pole,  and,  by  straps 
passed  through  rings  at  the  end  of  the  yoke,  buckled  the 
latter  to  the  collar.  The  traces  of  the  yoke-steeds  they 
hitched  to  the  axle  ;  those  of  the  trace-mates  to  the  top  rim 
of  the  chariot-bed.  There  remained  then  but  the  adjust 
ment  of  the  lines,  which,  judged  by  the  modern  devices,  was 
not  the  least  curious  part  of  the  method.  For  this  there 
was  a  large  ring  at  the  forward  extremity  of  the  pole ;  se 
curing  the  e:ids  to  that  ring  first,  they  parted  the  lines  so 
as  to  give  one  to  each  horse,  and  proceeded  to  pass  them  to 
the  driver,  slipping  them  separately  through  rings  on  the 
inner  side  of  the  halters  at  the  mouth. 

With  this  plain  generalization  in  mind,  all  further  de 
sirable  kno'wledge  upon  the  subject  can  be  had  by  follow 
ing  the  incidents  of  the  scene  occurring. 


214  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

The  other  contestants  had  been  received  in  silence  ;  the 
last  comer  was  more  fortunate.  While  moving  towards  the 
stand  from  which  we  are  viewing  the  scene,  his  progress 
was  signalized  by  loud  demonstrations,  by  clapping  of  hands 
and  cheers,  the  effect  of  which  was  to  centre  attention  upon 
him  exclusively.  His  yoke-steeds,  it  was  observed,  were 
black,  while  the  trace-mates  were  snow-white.  In  conformi 
ty  to  the  exacting  canons  of  Roman  taste,  they  had  all  four 
been  mutilated  ;  that  is  to  say,  their  tails  had  been  clipped, 
and,  to  complete  the  barbarity,  their  shorn  manes  were 
divided  into  knots  tied  with  flaring  red  and  yellow  rib 
bons. 

In  advancing,  the  stranger  at  length  reached  a  point 
where  the  chariot  came  into  view  from  the  stand,  and  its 
appearance  would  of  itself  have  justified  the  shouting.  The 
wheels  were  very  marvels  of  construction.  Stout  bands  of 
burnished  bronze  reinforced  the  hubs,  otherwise  very  light ; 
the  spokes  were  sections  of  ivory  tusks,  set  in  with  the  nat 
ural  curve  outward  to  perfect  the  dishing,  considered  im 
portant  then  as  now ;  bronze  tires  held  the  fellies,  which 
were  of  shining  ebony.  The  axle,  in  keeping  with  the 
wheels,  was  tipped  with  heads  of  snarling  tigers  done  in 
brass,  and  the  bed  was  woven  of  willow  wands  gilded  with 
gold. 

The  coming  of  the  beautiful  horses  and  resplendent 
chariot  drew  Ben-Hur  to  look  at  the  driver  with  increased 
interest. 

Who  was  he  ? 

When  Ben-Hur  asked  himself  the  question  first,  he  could 
not  see  the  man's  face,  or  even  his  full  figure  ;  yet  the  air 
and  manner  were  familiar,  and  pricked  him  keenly  with  a 
reminder  of  a  period  long  gone. 

AVho  could  it  be  ? 

/  Nearer  now,  and  the  horses  approaching  at  a  trot.  From 
the  shouting  and  the  gorgeousness  of  the  turnout,  it  was 
thought  he  might  be  some  official  favorite  or  famous  prince. 
Such  an  appearance  was  not  inconsistent  with  exalted  rank. 
Kings  often  struggled  for  the  crown  of  leaves  which  was 
the  prize  of  victory.  Nero  and  Commodus,  it  will  be  re 
membered,  devoted  themselves  to  the  chariot.  Ben-Hur 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  215 

arose  and  forced  a  passage  down  nearly  to  the  railing  in 
front  of  the  lower  seat  of  the  stand.  His  face  was  earnest, 
his  manner 'eager. 

And  directly  the  whole  person  of  the  driver  was  in  view. 
A  companion  rode  with  him,  in  classic  description  a  Myrti- 
lus,  permitted  men  of  high  estate  indulging  their  passion 
for  the  race-course.  Ben-Hur  could  see  only  the  driver, 
standing  erect  in  the  chariot,  with  the  reins  passed  several 
times  round  his  body — a  handsome  figure,  scantily  covered 
by  a  tunic  of  light-red  cloth  ;  in  the  right  hand  a  whip  ;  in 
the  other,  the  arm  raised  and  lightly  extended,  the  four 
lines.  The  pose  was  exceedingly  graceful  and  animated. 
The  cheers  and  clapping  of  hands  were  received  with 
statuesque  indifference.  Ben-Hur  stood  transfixed — his  in 
stinct  and  memory  had  served  him  faithfully — the  driver 
was  Messala. 

By  the  selection  of  horses,  the  magnificence  of  the  chariot, 
the  attitude,  and  display  of  person — above  all,  by  the  expres 
sion  of  the  cold,  sharp,  eagle  features,  imperialized  in  his 
countrymen  by  sway  of  the  world  through  so  many  genera 
tions,  Ben-Hur  knew  Messala  unchanged,  as  haughty,  confi 
dent,  and  audacious  as  ever,  the  same  in  ambition,  cynicism, 
and  mocking  insouciance. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

As  Ben-Hur  descended  the  steps  of  the  stand,  an  Arab 
arose  upon  the  last  one  at  .the  foot,  and  cried  out, 

"  Men  of  the  East  and  West — hearken  !  The  good  Sheik 
Ilderim  giveth  greeting.  With  four  horses,  sons  of  the 
favorites  of  Solomon  the  Wise,  he  hath  come  up  against  the 
best.  Needs  he  most  a  mighty  man  to  drive  them.  Who 
so  will  take  them  to  his  satisfaction,  to  him  he  promiseth 
enrichment  forever.  Here — there — in  the  city  and  in  the 
Circuses,  and  wherever  the  strong  most  do  congregate,  tell 
ye  this  his  offer.  So  saith  my  master,  Sheik  Ilderim  the 
Generous." 

The  proclamation  awakened  a  great  buzz  among  the 


216  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

people  under  the  awning.  By  night  it  would  be  repeated 
and  discussed  in  all  the  sporting  circles  of  Antioch.  Ben- 
Hur,  hearing  it,  stopped  and  looked  hesitatingly  from  the 
herald  to  the  sheik.  Malluch  thought  he  was  about  to  ac 
cept  the  offer,  but  was  relieved  when  he  presently  turned  to 
him,  and  asked,  "  Good  Malluch,  where  to  now  ?" 

The  worthy  replied,  with  a  laugh,  "Would  you  liken 
yourself  to  others  visiting  the  Grove  for  the  first  time,  you 
will  straightway  to  hear  your  fortune  told." 

"  My  fortune,  said  you  ?  Though  the  suggestion  has  in 
it  a  flavor  of  unbelief,  let  us  to  the  goddess  at  once." 

"  Nay,  son  of  Arrius,  these  Apollonians  have  a  better  trick 
than  that.  Instead  of  speech  with  a  Pythia  or  a  Sibyl,  they 
will  sell  you  a  plain  papyrus  leaf,  hardly  dry  from  the  stalk, 
and  bid  you  dip  it  in  the  water  of  a  certain  fountain,  when 
it  will  show  you  a  verse  in  which  you  may  hear  of  your  fut 
ure." 

The  glow  of  interest  departed  from  Ben-Hur's  face. 

"  There  are  people  who  have  no  need  to  vex  themselves 
about  their  future,"  he  said,  gloomily. 

"  Then  you  prefer  to  go  to  the  temples  ?" 

"  The  temples  are  Greek,  are  they  not  ?" 

"  They  call  them  Greek." 

"  The  Hellenes  were  masters  of  the  beautiful  in  art ;  but 
in  architecture  they  sacrificed  variety  to  unbending  beauty. 
Their  temples  are  all  alike.  How  call  you  the  fountain  ?" 

"  Castalia." 

"  Oh !  it  has  repute  throughout  the  world.  Let  us  thither." 

Malluch  kept  watch  on  his  companion  as  they  went,  and 
saw  that  for  the  moment  at  least  his  good  spirits  were  out. 
To  the  people  passing  he  gave  no  attention  ;  over  the  won 
ders  they  came  upon  there  were  no  exclamations  ;  silently, 
even  sullenly,  he  kept  a  slow  pace. 

The  truth  was,  the  sight  of  Messala  had  set  Ben-IIur  to 
thinking.  It  seemed  scarce  an  hour  ago  that  the  strong 
hands  had  torn  him  from  his  mother,  scarce  an  hour  ago  that 
the  Roman  had  put  seal  upon  the  gates  of  his  father's  house. 
He  recounted  how,  in  the  hopeless  misery  of  the  life — if 
such  it  might  be  called — in  the  galleys,  he  had  had  little  else 
to  do,  aside  from  labor,  than  dream  dreams  of  vengeance, 


BEX-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  217 

in  all  of  which  Messala  was  the  principal.  There  might  be, 
he  used  to  say  to  himself,  escape  for  Gratus,  but  for  Messala 
• — never  !  And  to  strengthen  and  harden  his  resolution,  he 
was  accustomed  to  repeat  over  and  over,  Who  pointed  us 
out  to  the  persecutors  ?  And  when  I  begged  him  for  help 
— not  for  myself — who  mocked  me,  and  went  away  laugh 
ing  ?  And  always  the  dream  had  the  same  ending.  The 
day  I  meet  him,  help  me,lhou  good  God  of  my  people  ! — 
help  me  to  some  fitting  special  vengeance  ! 

And  now  the  meeting  was  at  hand. 

Perhaps,  if  he  had  found  Messala  poor  and  suffering,  Ben- 
Hur's  feeling  had  been  different ;  but  it  was  not  so.  He 
found  him  more  than  prosperous ;  in  the  prosperity  there 
was  a  dash  and  glitter — gleam  of  sun  on  gilt  of  gold. 

So  it  happened  that  what  Malluch  accounted  a  passing 
loss  of  spirit  was  pondering  when  the  meeting  should  be, 
and  in  what  manner  he  could  make  it  most  memorable. 

They  "turned  after  a  while  into  an  avenue  of  oaks,  where 
the  people  were  going  and  coming  in  groups  ;  footmen  here, 
and  horsemen  ;  there  women  in  litters  borne  by  slaves  ;  and 
now  and  then  chariots  rolled  by  thunderously. 

At  the  end  of  the  avenue  the  road,  by  an  easy  grade,  de 
scended  into  a  lowland,  where,  on  the  right  hand,  there 
was  a  precipitous  facing  of  gray  rock,  and  on  the  left  an 
open  meadow  of  vernal  freshness.  Then  they  came  in 
view  of  the  famous  Fountain  of  Castalia. 

Edging  through  a  company  assembled  at  the  point,  Ben- 
Ilur  beheld  a  jet  of  sweet  water  pouring  from  the  crest  of 
a  stone  into  a  basin  of  black  marble,  where,  after  much 
boiling  and  foaming,  it  disappeared  as  through  a  funnel. 

By  the  basin,  under  a  small  portico  cut  in  the  solid  wall, 
sat  a  priest,  old,  bearded,  wrinkled,  cowled — never  being 
more  perfectly  ercmitish.  From  the  manner  of  the  people 
present,  hardly  might  one  say  which  was  the  attraction,  the 
fountain,  forever  sparkling,  or  the  priest,  forever  there. 
He  heard,  saw,  was  seen,  but  never  spoke.  Occasionally  a 
visitor  extended  a  hand  to  him  with  a  coin  in  it.  With  a 
cunning  twinkle  of  the  eyes,  he  took  the  money,  and  gave 
the  party  in  exchange  a  leaf  of  papyrus. 

The  receiver  made  haste  to  plunge  the  papyrus  into  the 


218  BEN-HUB:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

basin  ;  then,  holding  the  dripping  leaf  in  the  sunlight,  he 
would  be  rewarded  with  a  versified  inscription  upon  its 
face ;  and  the  fame  of  the  fountain  seldom  suffered  loss 
by  poverty  of  merit  in  the  poetry.  Before  Ben-Hur  could 
test  the  oracle,  some  other  visitors  were  seen  approaching 
across  the  meadow,  and  their  appearance  piqued  the  curi 
osity  of  the  company,  his  not  less  than  theirs. 

He  saw  first  a  camel,  very  tall  and  very  white,  in  lead 
ing  of  a  driver  on  horseback.  A  houdah  on  the  animal, 
besides  being  unusually  large,  was  of  crimson  and  gold. 
Two  other  horsemen  followed  the  camel  with  tall  spears  in 
hand, 

"  What  a  wonderful  camel !"  said  one  of  the  company. 

"  A  prince  from  afar,"  another  one  suggested. 

"  More  likely  a  king." 

"  If  he  were  on  an  elephant,  I  would  say  he  was  a  king." 

A  third  man  had  a  very  different  opinion. 

"  A  camel — and  a  white  camel !"  he  said,  authoritatively. 
"  By  Apollo,  friends,  they  who  come  yonder — you  can  see 
there  are  two  of  them — are  neither  kings  nor  princes  ;  they 
are  women !" 

In  the  midst  of  the  dispute  the  strangers  arrived. 

The  camel  seen  at  hand  did  not  belie  his  appearance 
afar.  A  taller,  statelier  brute  of  his  kind  no  traveller  at 
the  fountain,  though  from  the  remotest  parts,  had  ever  be 
held.  Such  great  black  eyes  !  such  exceedingly  fine  white 
hair  !  feet  so  contractile  when  raised,  so  soundless  in  plant 
ing,  so  broad  when  set ! — nobody  had  ever  seen  the  peer 
of  this  camel.  And  how  well  he  became  his  housing  of 
silk,  and  all  its  frippery  of  gold  in  fringe  and  gold  in  tas 
sel  !  The  tinkling  of  silver  bells  went  before  him,  and  he 
moved  lightly,  as  if  unknowing  of  his  burden. 

But  who  were  the  man  and  woman  under  the  houdah  ? 

Every  eye  saluted  them  with  the  inquiry. 

If  the  former  were  a  prince  or  a  king,  the  philosophers 
of  the  crowd  might  not  deny  the  impartiality  of  Time. 
When  they  saw  the  thin,  shrunken  face  buried  under  an 
immense  turban,  the  skin  of  the  hue  of  a  mummy,  making 
it  impossible  to  form  an  idea  of  his  nationality,  they  were 
pleased  to  think  the  limit  of  life  was  for  the  great  as  well 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  219 

as  the  small.  They  saw  about  his  person  nothing  so  envi 
able  as  the  shawl  which  draped  him. 

The  woman  was  seated  in  the  manner  of  the  East,  amidst 
veils  and  laces  of  surpassing  fineness.  Above  her  elbows 
she  wore  armlets  fashioned  like  coiled  asps,  and  linked  to 
bracelets  at  the  wrists  by  strands  of  gold ;  otherwise  the 
arms  were  bare  and  of  singular  natural  grace,  complement 
ed  with  hands  modelled  daintily  as  a  child's.  One  of  the 
hands  rested  upon  the  side  of  the  carriage,  showing  ta 
pered  fingers  glittering  with  rings,  and  stained  at  the  tips 
till  they  blushed  like  the  pink  of  mother-of-pearl.  She 
wore  an  open  caul  upon  her  head,  sprinkled  with  beads  of 
coral,  and  strung  with  coin-pieces  called  sunlets,  some  of 
which  were  carried  across  her  forehead,  while  others  fell 
down  her  back,  half-smothered  in  the  mass  of  her  straight 
blue-black  hair,  of  itself  an  incomparable  ornament,  not 
needing  the  veil  which  covered  it,  except  as  a  protection 
against  sun  and  dust.  From  her  elevated  seat  she  looked 
upon  the  people  calmly,  pleasantly,  and  apparently  so  in 
tent  upon  studying  them  as  to  be  unconscious  of  the  in 
terest  she  herself  was  exciting ;  and,  what  was  unusual — 
nay,  in  violent  contravention  of  the  custom  among  women 
of  rank  in  public — she  looked  at  them  with  an  open  face. 

It  was  a  fair  face  to  see  ;  quite  youthful ;  in  form,  oval ; 
complexion  not  white,  like  the  Greek ;  nor  brunet,  like  the 
Koman  ;  nor  blond,  like  the  Gaul ;  but  rather  the  tinting  of 
the  sun  of  the  Upper  Nile  upon  a  skin  of  such  transpar 
ency  that  the  blood  shone  through  it  on  cheek  and  brow 
with  nigh  the  ruddiness  of  lamplight.  The  eyes,  naturally 
large,  were  touched  along  the  lids  with  the  black  paint  im 
memorial  throughout  the  East.  The  lips  were  slightly 
parted,  disclosing,  through  their  scarlet  lake,  teeth  of  glis 
tening  whiteness.  To  all  these  excellences  of  countenance 
the  reader  is  finally  besought  to  superadd  the  air  derived 
from  the  pose  of  a  small  head,  classic  in  shape,  set  upon  a 
neck  long,  drooping,  and  graceful — the  air,  we  may  fancy, 
happily  described  by  the  word  queenly. 

As  if  satisfied  with  the  survey  of  people  and  locality, 
the  fair  creature  spoke  to  the  driver — an  Ethiopian  of  vast 
brawn,  naked  to  the  waist — who  led  the  camel  nearer  the 


220  BENJIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

fountain,  and  caused  it  to  kneel ;  after  which  he  received 
from  her  hand  a  cup,  and  proceeded  to  fill  it  at  the  basin. 
That  instant  the  sound  of  wheels  and  the  trampling  of 
horses  in  rapid  motion  broke  the  silence  her  beauty  had 
imposed,  and,  with  a  great  outcry,  the  bystanders  parted  in 
every  direction,  hurrying  to  get  away. 

"  The  Roman  has  a  mind  to  ride  us  down.  Look  out !" 
Malluch  shouted  to  Ben-Hur,  setting  him  at  the  same  time 
an  example  of  hasty  flight. 

The  latter  faced  to  the  direction  the  sounds  came  from, 
and  beheld  Messala  in  his  chariot  pushing  the  four  straight 
at  the  crowd.  This  time  the  view  was  near  and  distinct. 

The  parting  of  the  company  uncovered  the  camel,  which 
might  have  been  more  agile  than  his  kind  generally ;  yet 
the  hoofs  were  almost  upon  him,  and  he  resting  with 
closed  eyes,  chewing  the  endless  cud  with  such  sense  of 
security  as  long  favoritism  may  be  supposed  to  have  bred 
in  him.  The  Ethiopian  wrung  his  hands  afraid.  In  the 
houdah,  the  old  man  moved  to  escape  ;  but  he  was  hampered 
with  age,  and  could  not,  even  in  the  face  of  danger,  forget 
the  dignity  which  was  plainly  his  habit.  It  was  too  late 
for  the  woman  to  save  herself.  Ben-IIur  'stood  nearest 
them,  and  he  called  to  Messala, 

"  Hold  !     Look  where  thou  goest !     Back,  back  !" 

The  patrician  was  laughing  in  hearty  good-humor  ;  and, 
seeing  there  was  but  one  chance  of  rescue,  Ben-Hur  stepped 
in,  and  caught  the  bits  of  the  left  yoke-steed  and  his  mate. 
"  Dog  of  a  Roman  !  Carest  thou  so  little  for  life  ?"  he  cried, 
putting  forth  all  his  strength.  The  two  horses  reared,  and 
drew  the  others  round ;  the  tilting  of  the  pole  tilted  the 
chariot ;  Messala  barely  escaped  a  fall,  while  his  compla 
cent  Myrtiltis  rolled  back  like  a  clod  to  the  ground.  See 
ing  the  peril  past,  all  the  bystanders  burst  into  derisive 
laughter. 

The  matchless  audacity  of  the  Roman  then  manifested 
itself.  Loosing  the  lines  from  his  body,  he  tossed  them  to 
one  side,  dismounted,  walked  round  the  camel,  looked  at 
Ben-Hur,  and  spoke  partly  to  the  old  man  and  partly  to  the 
woman. 

"  Pardon,  I  pray  you — I  pray  you  both.     I  am  Messala, " 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST.  221 

he  said ;  "  and,  by  the  old  Mother  of  the  earth,  I  swear  1 
did  not  see  you  or  your  camel !  As  to  these  good  people 
— perhaps  I  trusted  too  much  to  my  skill.  I  sought  a 
laugh  at  them — the  laugh  is  theirs.  Good  may  it  do 
them  !" 

The  good-natured,  careless  look  and  gesture  he  threw  the 
bystanders  accorded  well  with  the  speech.  To  hear  what 
more  he  had  to  say,  they  became  quiet.  Assured  of  vic 
tory  over  the  body  of  the  offended,  he  signed  his  compan 
ion  to  take  the  chariot  to  a  safer  distance,  and  addressed 
himself  boldly  to  the  woman. 

"  Thou  hast  interest  in  the  good  man  here,  whose  par 
don,  if  not  granted  now,  I  shall  seek  with  the  greater  dili 
gence  hereafter  ;  his  daughter,  I  should  say." 

She  made  him  no  reply. 

"  By  Pallas,  thou  art  beautiful !  Beware  Apollo  mistake 
thee  not  for  his  lost  love.  I  wonder  what  land  can  boast 
herself  thy  mother.  Turn  not  away.  A  truce  !  a  truce  ! 
There  is  the  sun  of  India  in  thine  eyes ;  in  the  corners  of 
thy  mouth,  Egypt  hath  set  her  love-signs.  Perpol !  Turn 
not  to  that  slave,  fair  mistress,  before  proving  merciful  to 
this  one.  Tell  me  at  least  that  I  am  pardoned." 

At  this  point  she  broke  in  upon  him. 

"  Wilt  thou  come  here  ?"  she  asked,  smiling,  and  with 
gracious  bend  of  the  head  to  Ben-IIur. 

"  Take  the  cup  and  fill  it,  I  pray  thee,"  she  said  to  the 
latter.  "  My  father  is  thirsty." 

"  I  am  thy  most  willing  servant !" 

Ben-IIur  turned  about  to  do  the  favor,  and  was  face  to 
face  with  Messala.  Their  glances  met ;  the  Jew's  defiant ; 
the  Roman's  sparkling  with  humor. 

"  O  stranger,  beautiful  as  cruel !"  Messala  said,  waving 
his  hand  to  her.  "  If  Apollo  get  thee  not,  thou  shalt  see 
me  again.  Not  knowing  thy  country,  I  cannot  name  a  god 
to  commend  thee  to ;  so,  by  all  the  gods,  I  will  commend 
thee  to — myself  !" 

Seeing  the  Myrtilus  had  the  four  composed  and  ready, 
he  returned  to  the  chariot.  The  woman  looked  after  him 
as  he  moved  away,  and  whatever  else  there  was  in  her  look, 
there  was  no  displeasure.  Presently  she  received  the  wa« 


222  BEN-11UK:   A   TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

tor  ;  her  father  drank  ;  then  she  raised  the  cup  to  her  lips, 
and,  leaning  down,  gave  it  to  Ben-Hur ;  never  action  more 
graceful  and  gracious. 

"  Keep  it,  we  pray  of  thee  !  It  is  full  of  blessings — all 
thine  !" 

Immediately  the  camel  was  aroused,  and  on  his  feet,  and 
about  to  go,  when  the  old  man  called, 

"  Stand  thou  here." 

Ben-Hur  went  to  him  respectfully. 

"  Thou  hast  served  the  stranger  well  to-day.  There  is 
but  one  God.  In  his  holy  name  I  thank  thce.  I  am  Bal- 
thasar,  the  Egyptian.  In  the  Great  Orchard  of  Palms,  be 
yond  the  village  of  Daphne,  in  the  shade  of  the  palms, 
Sheik  Ilderim  the  Generous  abideth  in  his  tents,  and  we 
are  his  guests.  Seek  us  there.  Thou  shalt  have  welcome 
sweet  with  the  savor  of  the  grateful." 

Ben-Hur  was  left  in  wonder  at  the  old  man's  clear  voice 
and  reverend  manner.  As  he  gazed  after  the  two  depart 
ing,  he  caught  sight  of  Messala  going  as  he  had  come,  joy 
ous,  indifferent,  and  with  a  mocking  laugh. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

As  a  rule,  there  is  no  surer  way  to  the  dislike  of  men 
than  to  behave  well  where  they  have  behaved  badly.  In 
this  instance,  happily,  Malluch  was  an  exception  to  the  rule. 
The  affair  he  had  just  witnessed  raised  Ben-IIur  in  his  es 
timation,  since  he  could  not  deny  him  courage  and  ad 
dress  ;  could  he  now  get  some  insight  into  the  young  man's 
history,  the  results  of  the  day  would  not  be  all  unprofita 
ble  to  good  master  Sirnonides. 

On  the  latter  point,  referring  to  what  lie  had  as  yet 
learned,  two  facts  comprehended,  it  all — the  subject  of  his 
investigation  was  a  Jew,  and  the  adopted  son  of  a  famous 
Roman.  Another  conclusion  which  might  be  of  import 
ance  was  beginning  to  formulate  itself  in  the  shrewd  mind 
of  the  emissary  ;  between  Messala  and  the  son  of  the  duum 
vir  there  was  a  connection  of  some  kind.  But  what  was 
it  ? — and  how  could  it  be  reduced  to  assurance  ?  With  all 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  223 

his  sounding,  the  ways  and  means  of  solution  were  not 
at  call.  In  the  heat  of  -the  perplexity,  Ben-Hur  himself 
came  to  his  help.  lie  laid  his  hand  on  Malluch's  arm 
and  drew  him  out  of  the  crowd,  which  was  already  going 
back  to  its  interest  in  the  gray  old  priest  and  the  mystic 
fountain. 

"  Good  Malluch,"  he  said,  stopping,  "  may  a  man  forget 
his  mother  ?" 

The  question  was  abrupt  and  without  direction,  and 
therefore  of  the  kind  which  leaves  the  person  addressed 
in  a  state  of  confusion.  Malluch  looked  into  Ben-Hur's 
face  for  a  hint  of  meaning,  but  saw,  instead,  two  bright- 
red  spots,  one  on  each  cheek,  and  in  his  eyes  traces  of  what 
might  have  been  repressed  tears ;  then  he  answered,  me 
chanically,  "  No  !"  adding,  with  fervor,  "  never  ;"  and  a 
moment  after,  when  he  began  to  recover  himself,  "  If  he  is 
an  Israelite,  never !"  And  when  at  length  he  was  com 
pletely  recovered — "  My  first  lesson  in  the  synagogue  was 
the  Shema ;  my  next  was  the  saying  of  the  son  of  Sirach, 
'  Honor  thy  father  with  thy  whole  soul,  and  forget  not  the 
sorrows  of  thy  mother.'  " 

The  red  spots  on  Ben-Hur's  face  deepened. 

"  The  words  bring  my  childhood  back  again ;  and,  Mal 
luch,  they  prove  you  a  genuine  Jew.  I  believe  I  can  trust 
you." 

Ben-IIur  let  go  the  arm  he  was  holding,  and  caught  the 
folds  of  the  gown  covering  his  own  breast,  and  pressed 
them  close,  as  if  to  smother  a  pain,  or  a  feeling  there  as 
sharp  as  a  pain. 

"  My  father,"  he  said,  "  bore  a  good  name,  and  was  not 
without  honor  in  Jerusalem,  where  he  dwelt.  My  mother, 
at  his  death,  was  in  the  prime  of  womanhood  ;  and  it  is  not 
enough  to  say  of  her  she  was  good  and  beautiful :  in  her 
tongue  was  the  law  of  kindness,  and  her  works  were  the 
praise  of  all  in  the  gates,  and  she  smiled  at  days  to  come. 
I  had  a  little  sister,  and  she  and  I  were  the  family,  and  we 
were  so  happy  that  I,  at  least,  have  never  seen  harm  in  the 
saying  of  the  old  rabbi, '  God  could  not  be  everywhere,  and, 
therefore,  he  made  mothers.'  One  day  an  accident  hap 
pened  to  a  Roman  in  authority  as  he  was  riding  past  our 


224  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

house  at  the  head  of  a  cohort ;  the  legionaries  burst  the 
gate  and  rushed  in  and  seized  us.  I  have  not  set-n  my 
mother  or  sister  since.  I  cannot  say  they  are  dead  or  living. 
I  do  not  know  what  became  of  them.  But,  Malluch,  the 
man  in  the  chariot  yonder  was  present  at  the  separation ; 
he  gave  us  over  to  the  captors ;  he  heard  my  mother's  prayer 
for  her  children,  and  he  laughed  when  they  dragged  her 
away.  Hardly  may  one  say  which  graves  deepest  in  mem 
ory,  love  or  hate.  To-day  I  knew  him  afar — and,  Mal 
luch—" 

He  caught  the  listener's  arm  again. 

"And,  Malluch,  he  knows  and  takes  with  him  now  the 
secret  I  would  give  my  life  for :  he  could  tell  if  she  lives, 
and  where  she  is,  and  her  condition ;  if  she — no,  they — 
much  sorrow  has  made  the  two  as  one — if  they  are  dead, 
he  could  tell  where  they  died,  and  of  what,  and  where  their 
bones  await  my  finding." 

"  And  will  he  not  ?" 

"  Xo." 

"Why?" 

"  I  am  a  Jew,  and  he  is  a  Roman." 

"  But  Romans  have  tongues,  and  Jews,  though  ever  so 
despised,  have  methods  to  beguile  them." 

"  For  such  as  he  ?  No ;  and,  besides,  the  secret  is  one 
of  state.  All  my  father's  property  was  confiscated  and 
divided." 

Malluch  nodded  his  head  slowly,  much  as  to  admit  the 
argument ;  then  he  asked  anew,  "  Did  he  not  recognize 
you  ?" 

"  He  could  not.  I  was  sent  to  death  in  life,  and  have 
been  long  since  accounted  of  the  dead." 

"  I  wonder  you  did  not  strike  him,"  said  Malluch,  yield 
ing  to  a  touch  of  passion. 

"  That  would  have  been  to  put  him  past  serving  me  for 
ever.  I  would  have  had  to  kill  him,  and  Death,  you  know, 
keeps  secrets  better  even  than  a  guilty  Roman," 

The  man  who,  with  so  much  to  avenge,  could  so  calmly 
put  such  an  opportunity  aside  must  be  confident  of  his 
future  or  have  ready  some  better  design,  and  Malluclfs 
interest  changed  with  the  thought ;  it  ceased  to  be  that 


BEN-HUB:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  225 

of  an  emissary  in  duty  bound  to  another.  Ben-IIur  was 
actually  asserting  a  claim  upon  him  for  his  own  sake.  In 
other  words,  Malluch  was  preparing  to  serve  him  with 
good  heart  and  from  downright  admiration. 

After  brief  pause,  Ben-IIur  resumed  speaking. 

"  I  would  not  take  his  life,  good  Malluch ;  against  that 
extreme  the  possession  of  the  secret  is  for  the  present,  at 
least,  his  safeguard ;  yet  I  may  punish  him,  and  so  you 
give  me  help,  I  will  try." 

"  lie  is  a  Roman,"  said  Malluch,  without  hesitation  ; 
"  and  I  am  of  the  tribe  of  Judah.  I  will  help  you.  If 
you  choose,  put  me  under  oath — under  the  most  solemn 
oath." 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  that  will  suffice." 

As  their  hands  fell  apart,  Ben-IIur  said,  with  lightened 
feeling,  "  That  I  would  charge  you  with  is  not  difficult, 
good  friend ;  neither  is  it  dreadful  to  conscience.  Let  us 
move  on." 

They  took  the  road  which  led  to  the  right  across  the 
meadow  spoken  of  in  the  description  of  the  coming  to  the 
fountain.  Ben-Hur  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"  Do  you  know  Sheik  llderim  the  Generous  ?" 

"  Yes.'" 

"  AVherc  is  his  Orchard  of  Palms  ?  or,  rather,  Malluch, 
how  far  is  it  beyond  the  village  of  Daphne  ?" 

Malluch  was  touched  by  a  doubt ;  he  recalled  the  prctti- 
ness  of  the  favor  shown  him  by  the  woman  at  the  fountain, 
and  wondered  if  he  who  had  the  sorrows  of  a  mother  in 
mind  was  about  to  forget  them  for  a  lure  of  love ;  yet  he 
replied,  "  The  Orchard  of  Palms  lies  beyond  the  village 
two  hours  by  horse,  and  one  by  a  swift  camel." 

"  Thank  you ;  and  to  your  knowledge  once  more.  Have 
the  games  of  which  you  told  me  been  widely  published  ? 
and  when  will  they  take  place  ?' 

The  questions  were  suggestive ;  and  if  they  did  not  re 
store  Malluch  his  confidence,  they  at  least  stimulated  his 
curiosity. 

"  Oh  yes,  they  will  be  of  ample  splendor.  The  prefect 
is  rich,  and  could  afford  to  lose  his  place ;  yet,  as  is  the 
way  with  successful  men,  his  love  of  riches  is  nowise  dimin- 
15 


226  BEN-IIUR:  A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ished ;  and  to  gain  a  friend  at  court,  if  nothing  more,  he 
must  make  ado  for  the  Consul  Maxentius,  who  is  coming 
hither  to  make  final  preparations  for  a  campaign  against 
the  Parthians.  The  money  there  is  in  the  preparations 
the  citizens  of  Antioch  know  from  experience ;  so  they 
have  had  permission  to  join  the  prefect  in  the  honors 
intended  for  the  great  man.  A  month  ago  heralds  went 
to  the  four  quarters  to  proclaim  the  opening  of  the  Circus 
for  the  celebration.  The  name  of  the  prefect  would  be  .of 
itself  good  guarantee  of  variety  and  magnificence,  par 
ticularly  throughout  the  East;  but  when  to  his  promises 
Antioch  joins  hers,  all  the  islands  and  the  cities  by  the 
sea  stand  assured  of  the  extraordinary,  and  will  be  here 
in  person  or  by  their  most  famous  professionals.  The  fees 
offered  are  royal." 

"  And  the  Circus — I  have  heard  it  is  second  only  to  the 
Maximus." 

"  At  Rome,  you  mean.  Well,  ours  seats  two  hundred 
thousand  people,  yours  seats  seventy-five  thousand  more ; 
yours  is  of  marble,  so  is  ours ;  in  arrangement  they  are 
exactly  the  same.'1 

"  Are  the  rules  the  same  ?" 

Malluch  smiled. 

"  If  Antioch  dared  be  original,  son  of  Arrius,  Rome 
would  not  be  the  mistress  she  is.  The  laws  of  the  Circus 
Maximus  govern  except  in  one  particular :  there  but  four 
chariots  may  start  at  once,  here  all  start  without  reference 
to  number." 

"  That  is  the  practice  of  the  Greeks,"  said  Ben-IIur. 

"  Yes,  Antioch  is  more  Greek  than  Roman." 

"  So  then,  Malluch,  I  may  choose  my  own  chariot  ?" 

"  Your  own  chariot  and  horses.  There  is  no  restriction 
upon  either." 

While  replying,  Malluch  observed  the  thoughtful  look 
on  Ben-Hur's  face  give  place  to  one  of  satisfaction. 

"  One  thing  more  now,  0  Malluch.  When  will  the  cele 
bration  be  ?" 

"  Ah  !  your  pardon,"  the  other  answered.  "  To-morrow 
— and  the  next  day,"  he  said,  counting  aloud,  "  then,  to 
speak  in  the  Roman  style,  if  the  sea-gods  be  propitious, 


BEN-I1UR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  227 

the  consul  arrives.  Yes,  the  sixth  day  from  this  we  have 
the  games." 

"The  time  is  short,  Malluch,  but  it  is  enough."  The 
last  words  were  spoken  decisively.  "  By  the  prophets  of 
our  old  Israel !  I  will  take  to  the  reins  again.  Stay !  a 
condition ;  is  there  assurance  that  Messala  Avill  be  a  com 
petitor  ?" 

Malluch  saw  now  the  plan,  and  all  its  opportunities  for 
the  humiliation  of  the  Roman ;  and  he  had  not  been  true 
descendant  of  Jacob  if,  with  all  his  interest  wakened,  he 
had  not  rushed  to  a  consideration  of  the  chances.  His 
voice  actually  trembled  as  he  said,  "  Have  you  the  prac 
tice  ?" 

"  Fear  not,  my  friend.  The  winners  in  the  Circus  Max- 
imus  have  held  their  crowns  these  three  years  at  my  will. 
Ask  them — ask  the  best  of  them — and  they  will  tell  you 
so.  In  the  last  great  games  the  emperor  himself  offered 
me  his  patronage  if  I  would  take  his  horses  in  hand  and 
run  them  against  the  entries  of  the  world." 

"But  you  did  not?" 

Malluch  spoke  eagerly. 

"  I — I  am  a  Jew  " — Bcn-Hur  seemed  shrinking  within 
himself  as  he  spoke — "  and,  though  I  wear  a  Roman  name, 
I  dared  not  do  professionally  a  thing  to  sully  my  father's 
name  in  the  cloisters  and  courts  of  the  Temple.  In  the 
palaestrae  I  could  indulge  practice  which,  if  followed  into 
the  Circus,  would  become  an  abomination ;  and  if  I  take 
to  the  course  here,  Malluch,  I  swear  it  will  not  be  for  the 
prize  or  the  winner's  fee." 

"  Hold — swear  not  so  !"  cried  Malluch.  "  The  fee  is  ten 
thousand  sestertii — a  fortune  for  life  !" 

"  Not  for  me,  though  the  prefect  trebled  it  fifty  times. 
Better  than  that,  better  than  all  the  imperial  revenues  from 
the  first  year  of  the  first  Caesar — I  will  make  this  race  to 
humble  my  enemy.  Vengeance  is  permitted  by  the  law." 

Malluch  smiled  and  nodded  as  if  saying,  "  Right,  right 
— trust  me  a  Jew  to  understand  a  Jew." 

"  The  Messala  will  drive,"  he  said,  directly.  "  He  is 
committed  to  the  race  in  many  ways — by  publication  in 
the  streets,  and  in  the  baths  and  theatres,  the  palace  and 


228  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

barracks ;  and,  to  fix  him  pasJt  retreat,  his  name  is  on  the 
tablets  of  every  young  spendthrift  in  Antioch." 

"  In  wager,  Malluch  ?" 

"  Yes,  in  wager ;  and  every  day  he  comes  ostentatiously 
to  practice,  as  you  saw  him." 

"  Ah  !  and  that  is  the  chariot,  and  those  the  horses,  with 
which  he  will  make  the  race  ?  Thank  you,  thank  you,  Mal 
luch  !  You  have  served  me  well  already.  I  am  satisfied. 
Now  be  my  guide  to  the  Orchard  of  Palms,  and  give  me 
introduction  to  Sheik  Ilderim  the  Generous." 

"  When  ?" 

"  To-day.     His  horses  may  be  engaged  to-morrow." 

"  You  like  them,  then  ?" 

Ben-Hur  answered  with  animation, 

"  I  saw  them  from  the  stand  an  instant  only,  for  Messala 
then  drove  up,  and  I  might  not  look  at  anything  else ;  yet 
I  recognized  them  as  of  the  blood  which  is  the  wonder  as 
well  as  the  glory  of  the  deserts.  I  never  saw  the  kind  be 
fore,  except  in  the  stables  of  Caesar ;  but  once  seen,  they 
are  always  to  be  known.  To-morrow,  upon  meeting,  I  will 
know  you,  Malluch,  though  you  do  not  so  much  as  salute 
me  ;  I  will  know  you  by  your  face,  by  your  form,  by  your 
manner ;  and  by  the  same  signs  I  will  know  them,  and  with 
the  same  certainty.  If  all  that  is  said  of  them  be  true,  and 
I  can  bring  their  spirit  under  control  of  mine,  I  can: — " 

"  Win  the  sestertii !"  said  Malluch,  laughing. 

"  No,"  answered  Ben-Hur,  as  quickly.  "  I  will  do  what 
better  becomes  a  man  born  to  the  heritage  of  Jacob — I 
will  humble  mine  enemy  in  a  most  public  place.  But,"  he 
added,  impatiently,  "  we  are  losing  time.  How  can  we 
most  quickly  reach  the  tents  of  the  sheik  ?" 

Malluch  took  a  moment  for  reflection. 

"  It  is  best  we  go  straight  to  the  village,  which  is  fortu 
nately  near  by ;  if  two  swift  camels  are  to  be  had  for  hire 
there,  we  will  be  on  the  road  but  an  hour." 

"  Let  us  about  it,  then." 

The  village  was  an  assemblage  of  palaces  in  beautiful 
gardens,  interspersed  with  khans  of  princely  sort.  Drom 
edaries  were  happily  secured,  and  upon  them  the  journey 
to  the  famous  Orchard  of  Palms  was  begun. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  229 


CHAPTER  X. 

BEYOND  the  village  the  country  was  undulating  and  cul 
tivated  ;  in  fact,  it  was  the  garden-land  of  Antioch,  with 
not  a  foot  lost  to  labor.  The  steep  faces  of  the  hills  were 
terraced;  even  the  hedges  were  brighter  of  the  trailing 
vines  which,  besides  the  lure  of  shade,  offered  passers-by 
sweet  promises  of  wine  to  come,  and  grapes  in  clustered 
purple  ripeness.  Over  melon-patches,  and  through  apricot 
and  fig-tree  groves,  and  groves  of  oranges  and  limes,  the 
whitewashed  houses  of  the  farmers  were  seen ;  and  every 
where  Plenty,  the  smiling  daughter  of  Peace,  gave  notice 
by  her  thousand  signs  that  she  was  at  home,  making  the 
generous  traveller  merry  at  heart,  until  he  was  even  dis 
posed  to  give  Rome  her  dues.  Occasionally,  also,  views 
were  had  of  Taurus  and  Lebanon,  between  which,  a  sep 
arating  line  of  silver,  the  Orontes  placidly  pursued  its  way. 

In  course  of  their  journey  the  friends  came  to  the  river, 
which  they  followed  with  the  windings  of  the  road,  now 
over  bold  bluffs,  and  then  into  vales,  all  alike  allotted  for 
country-seats ;  and  if  the  land  was  in  full  foliage  of  oak 
and  sycamore  and  myrtle,  and  bay  and  arbutus,  and  per 
fuming  jasmine,  the  river  was  bright  with  slanted  sunlight, 
which  would  have  slept  where  it  fell  but  for  ships  in  end 
less  procession,  gliding  with  the  current,  tacking  for  the 
wind,  or  bounding  under  the  impulse  of  oars — some  com 
ing,  some  going,  and  all  suggestive  of  the  sea,  and  distant 
peoples,  and  famous  places,  and  things  coveted  on  account 
of  their  rarity.  To  the  fancy  there  is  nothing  so  winsome 
as  a  white  sail  seaward  blown,  unless  it  be  a  white  sail 
homeward  bound,  its  voyage  happily  done.  And  down 
the  shore  the  friends  went  continuously  till  they  came  to  a 
lake  fed  by  back-water  from  the  river,  clear,  deep,  and 
without  current.  An  old  palm-tree  dominated  the  angle  of 
the  inlet ;  turning  to  the  left  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  Mal- 
lucli  clapped  his  hands  and  shouted, 


230  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  Look,  look  !     The  Orchard  of  Palms  !" 

The  scene  was  nowhere  else  to  be  found  unless  in  the 
favored  oases  of  Arabia  or  the  Ptolemsean  farms  along  the 
Nile ;  and  to  sustain  a  sensation  new  as  it  was  delightful, 
Ben-Hur  was  admitted  into  a  tract  of  land  apparently  with 
out  limit  and  level  as  a  floor.  All  under  foot  was  fresh 
grass,  in  Syria  the  rarest  and  most  beautiful  production  of 
the  soil ;  if  he  looked  up,  it  was  to  see  the  sky  palely  blue 
through  the  groinery  of  countless  date-bearers,  very  patri 
archs  of  their  kind,  so  numerous  and  old,  and  of  such 
mighty  girth,  so  tall,  so  serried,  so  wide  of  branch,  each 
branch  so  perfect  with  fronds,  plumy  and  waxlike  and 
brilliant,  they  seemed  enchanters  enchanted.  Here  was 
the  grass  coloring  the  very  atmosphere ;  there  the  lake, 
cool  and  clear,  rippling  but  a  few  feet  under  the  surface, 
and  helping  the  trees  to  their  long  life  in  old  age.  Did 
the  Grove  of  Daphne  excel  this  one  ?  And  the  palms,  as 
if  they  knew  Ben-Hur's  thought,  and  would  win  him  after 
a  way  of  their  own,  seemed,  as  he  passed  under  their 
arches,  to  stir  and  sprinkle  him  with  dewy  coolness. 

The  road  wound  in  close  parallelism  with  the  shore  of 
the  lake ;  and  when  it  carried  the  travellers  down  to  the 
water's  edge,  there  was  always  on  that  side  a  shining  ex 
panse  limited  not  far  off  by  the  opposite  shore,  on  which, 
as  on  this  one,  no  tree  but  the  palm  Avas  permitted. 

"  See  that,"  said  Malluch,  pointing  to  a  giant  of  the 
place.  "  Each  ring  upon  its  trunk  marks  a  year  of  its  life. 
Count  them  from  root  to  branch,  and  if  the  sheik  tells  you 
the  grove  was  planted  before  the  Seleucida3  were  heard  of 
in  Antioch,  do  not  doubt  him." 

One  may  not  look  at  a  perfect  palm-tree  but  that,  with  a 
subtlety  all  its  own,  it  assumes  a  presence  for  itself,  and 
makes  a  poet  of  the  beholder.  This  is  the  explanation  of 
the  honors  it  has  received,  beginning  with  the  artists  of  the 
first  kings,  who  could  find  no  form  in  all  the  earth  to  serve 
them  so  well  as  a  model  for  the  pillars  of  their  palaces  and 
temples ;  and  for  the  same  reason  Ben-Hur  was  moved  to  say, 

"  As  I  saw  him  at  the  stand  to-day,  good  Malluck,  Sheik 
Ilderim  appeared  to  be  a  very  common  man.  The  rabbis 
in  Jerusalem  would  look  down  upon  him,  I  fear,  as  a  son  of 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  231 

a  dog  of  Edom.  How  came  lie  in  possession  of  the  Or 
chard  ?  And  how  has  he  been  able  to  hold  it  against  the 
greed  of  Roman  governors  ?" 

"  If  blood  derives  excellence  from  time,  son  of  Arrius, 
then  is  old  Ilderim  a  man,  though  he  be  an  uncircumcised 
Edomite." 

Malluch  spoke  warmly. 

"  All  his  fathers  before  him  were  sheiks.  One  of  them 
— I  shall  not  say  when  he  lived  or  did  the  good  deed — once 
helped  a  king  who  was  being  hunted  with  swords.  The 
story  says  he  loaned  him  a  thousand  horsemen,  who  knew 
the  paths  of  the  wilderness  and  its  hiding-places  as  shep 
herds  know  the  scant  hills  they  inhabit  with  their  flocks ; 
and  they  carried  him  here  and  there  until  the  opportunity 
came,  and  then  with  their  spears  they  slew  the  enemy,  and 
set  him  upon  his  throne  again.  And  the  king,  it  is  said, 
remembered  the  service,  and  brought  the  son  of  the  Desert 
to  this  place,  and  bade  him  set  up  his  tent  and  bring  his 
family  and  his  herds,  for  the  lake  and  trees,  and  all  the 
land  from  the  river  to  the  nearest  mountains,  were  his  and 
his  children's  forever.  And  they  have  never  been  disturbed 
in  the  possession.  The  rulers  succeeding  have  found  it 
policy  to  keep  good  terms  with  the  tribe,  to  whom  the 
Lord  has  given  increase  of  men  and  horses,  and  camels  and 
riches,  making  them  masters  of  many  highways  between 
cities ;  so  that  it  is  with  them  any  time  they  please  to  say 
to  commerce,  '  Go  in  peace,'  or  '  Stop,'  and  what  they  say 
shall  be  done.  Even  the  prefect  in  the  citadel  overlooking 
Antioch  thinks  it  happy  day  with  him  when  Ilderim,  sur- 
named  the  Generous  on  account  of  good  deeds  done  unto 
all  manner  of  men,  with  his  wives  and  children,  and  his 
trains  of  camels  and  horses,  and  his  belongings  of  sheik, 
moving  as  our  fathers  Abraham  and  Jacob  moved,  comes 
up  to  exchange  briefly  his  bitter  wells  for  the  pleasantness 
you  see  about  us." 

"  How  is  it,  then  ?"  said  Ben-Hur,  who  had  been  listen 
ing  unmindful  of  the  slow  gait  of  the  dromedaries.  "  I  saw 
the  sheik  tear  his  beard  while  he  cursed  himself  that  he  had 
put  trust  in  a  Roman.  Crcsar,  had  he  heard  him,  might 
have  said, '  I  like  not  such  a  friend  as  this  ;  put  him  away.' " 


232  BEX-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

^  It  would  be  but  shrewd  judgment,"  Malluch  replied, 
smiling.  "  Ilderim  is  not  a  lover  of  Rome  ;  he  has  a  griev 
ance.  Three  years  ago  the  Parthians  rode  across  the  road 
from  Bozra  to  Damascus,  and  fell  upon  a  caravan  laden, 
among  other  things,  with  the  incoming  tax-returns  of  a 
district  over  that  way.  They  slew  every  creature  taken, 
which  the  censors  in  Rome  could  have  forgiven  if  the 
imperial  treasure  had  been  spared  and  forwarded.  The 
farmers  of  the  taxes,  being  chargeable  with  the  loss,  com 
plained  to  Caesar,  and  Caesar  held  Herod  to  payment,  and 
Herod,  on  his  part,  seized  property  of  Ilderim,  whom  he 
charged  with  treasonable  neglect  of  duty.  The  sheik  ap 
pealed  to  Ca?sar,  and  Caesar  has  made  him  such  answer  as 
might  be  looked  for  from  the  unwinking  sphinx.  The  old 
man's  heart  has  been  aching  sore  ever  since,  and  he  nurses 
his  wrath,  and  takes  pleasure  in  its  daily  growth." 

"  He  can  do  nothing,  Malluch." 

"  Well,"  said  Malluch,  "  that  involves  another  explana 
tion,  which  I  will  give  you,  if  we  can  draw  nearer.  But 
see  ! — the  hospitality  of  the  sheik  begins  early — the  chil 
dren  are  speaking  to  you." 

The  dromedaries  stopped,  and  Ben-Hur  looked  down 
upon  some  little  girls  of  the  Syrian  peasant  class,  who  were 
offering  him  their  baskets  rilled  with  dates.  The  fruit  was 
freshly  gathered,  and  not  to  be  refused ;  he  stooped  and 
took  it,  and  as  he  did  so  a  man  in  the  tree  by  which  they 
were  halted  cried,  "  Peace  to  you,  and  welcome !" 

Their  thanks  said  to  the  children,  the  friends  moved  on 
at  such  gait  as  the  animals  chose. 

"  You  must  know,"  Malluch  continued,  pausing  now  and 
then  to  dispose  of  a  date,  "  that  the  merchant  Simonides 
gives  me  his  confidence,  and  sometimes  flatters  me  by  tak 
ing  me  into  council ;  and  as  I  attend  him  at  his  house,  I 
have  made  acquaintance  with  many  of  his  friends,  who, 
knowing  my  footing  with  the  host,  talk  to  him  freely  in 
my  presence.  In  that  way  I  became  somewhat  intimate 
with  Sheik  Ilderim/' 

For  a  moment  Ben-IIur's  attention  wandered.  Before 
his  mind's  eye  there  arose  the  image,  pure,  gentle,  and  ap 
pealing,  of  Esther,  the  merchant's  daughter.  Her  dark 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  233 

eyes  bright  with  the  peculiar  Jewish  lustre  met  his  in 
modest  gaze ;  he  heard  her  step  as  when  she  approached 
him  with  the  wine,  and  her  voice  as  she  tendered  him  the 
cup ;  and  he  acknowledged  to  himself  again  all  the  sym 
pathy  she  manifested  for  him,  and  manifested  so  plainly 
that  words  were  unnecessary,  and  so  sweetly  that  words 
would  have  been  but  a  detraction.  The  vision  was  exceed 
ing  pleasant,  but  upon  his  turning  to  Malluch,  it  flew  away. 

"  A  few  weeks  ago,"  said  Malluch,  continuing,  "  the  old 
Arab  called  on  Simonides,  and  found  me  present.  I  ob 
served  he  seemed  much  moved  about  something,  and,  in 
deference,  offered  to  withdraw,  but  he  himself  forbade  me. 
'  As  you  are  an  Israelite,'  he  said, '  stay,  for  I  have  a  strange 
story  to  tell.'  The  emphasis  on  the  word  Israelite  excited 
my  curiosity.  I  remained,  and  this  is  in  substance  his  story 
— I  cut  it  short  because  we  are  drawing  nigh  the  tent,  and 
I  leave  the  details  to  the  good  man  himself.  A  good  many 
years  ago,  three  men  called  at  Ilderim's  tent  out  in  the  wil 
derness.  They  were  all  foreigners,  a  Hindoo,  a  Greek,  and 
an  Egyptian  ;  and  they  had  come  on  camels,  the  largest  he 
had  ever  seen,  and  all  white.  He  welcomed  them,  and  gave 
them  rest.  Next  morning  they  arose  and  prayed  a  prayer 
new  to  the  sheik — a  prayer  addressed  to  God  and  his  son 
— 'this  with  much  mystery  besides.  After  breaking  fast 
with  .him,  the  Egyptian  told  who  they  were,  and  whence 
they  had  come.  Each  had  seen  a  star,  out  of  which  a 
voice  had  bidden  them  go  to  Jerusalem  and  ask,  '  AVherc 
is  he  that  is  born  King  of  the  Jews  ?'  They  obeyed. 
From  Jerusalem  they  were  led  by  a  star  to  Bethlehem, 
where,  in  a  cave,  they  found  a  child  newly  born,  which  they 
fell  down  and  worshipped ;  and  after  worshipping  it,  and 
giving  it  costly  presents,  and  bearing  witness  of  what  it 
was,  they  took  to  their  camels,  and  fled  without  pause  to 
the  sheik,  because  if  Herod — meaning  him  surnarned  the 
Great — could  lay  hands  upon  them,  he  would  certainly  kill 
them.  And,  faithful  to  his  habit,  the  sheik  took  care  of 
them,  and  kept  them  concealed  for  a  year,  when  they 
departed,  leaving  with  him  gifts  of  great  value,  and  each 
going  a  separate  way." 

"  It  is,  indeed,  a  most  wonderful  story,"  Ben-IIur  ex- 


234  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST. 

claimed  at  its  conclusion.  "  What  did  you  say  they  were 
to  ask  at  Jerusalem  ?" 

"  They  were  to  ask  '  Where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of 
the  Jews  ?'  " 

"  Was  that  all  ?" 

"  There  was  more  to  the  question,  but  I  cannot  recall  it." 

"  And  they  found  the  child  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  worshipped  him." 

"  It  is  a  miracle,  Malluch." 

"  Ilderim  is  a  grave  man,  though  excitable  as  all  Arabs 
are.  A  lie  on  his  tongue  is  impossible." 

Malluch  spoke  positively.  Thereupon  the  dromedaries 
were  forgotten,  and,  quite  as  unmindful  of  their  riders,  they 
turned  off  the  road  to  the  growing  grass. 

"  Has  Ilderim  nothing  more  of  the  three  men  ?"  asked 
Ben-Hur.  "  What  became  of  them  ?" 

"  Ah,  yes,  that  was  the  cause  of  his  coming  to  Simonides 
the  day  of  which  I  was  speaking.  Only  the  night  before 
that  day  the  Egyptian  reappeared  to  him." 

'  Where  ?" 

'  Here  at  the  door  of  the  tent  to  which  we  arc  coming." 

'  How  knew  he  the  man  ?" 

'  As  you  knew  the  horses  to-day — by  face  and  manner." 

'  By  nothing  else  ?" 

'  He  rode  the  same  great  white  camel,  and  gave  him  the 
same  name — Balthasar,  the  Egyptian." 

"  It  is  a  wonder  of  the  Lord's  ?" 

Ben-Hur  spoke  with  excitement. 

And  Malluch,  wondering,  asked  "  Why  so  ?" 

"  Balthasar,  you  said  ?" 

"  Yes.     Balthasar,  the  Egyptian." 

"  That  was  the  name  the  old  man  gave  us  at  the  fountain 
to-day." 

Then,  at  the  reminder,  Malluch  became  excited. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  said ;  "  and  the  camel  was  the  same — 
and  you  saved  the  man's  life." 

"  And  the  woman,"  said  Ben-Hur,  like  one  speaking  to 
himself — "  the  woman  was  his  daughter." 

He  fell  to  thinking ;  and  even  the  reader  will  say  he 
was  having  a  vision  of  the  woman,  and  that  it  was  more 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  235 

welcome  than  that  of  Esther,  if  only  because  it  stayed 
longer  with  him  ;  but  no — 

"  Tell  me  again,"  he  said,  presently.  "  Were  the  three 
to  ask,  "  Where  is  he  that  is  to  be  King  of  the  Jews  ?" 

"  Not  exactly.  The  words  were  born  to  be  King  of  the 
Jews.  Those  were  the  words  as  the  old  sheik  caught  them 
first  in  the  desert,  and  he  has  ever  since  been  waiting  the 
coming  of  the  king ;  nor  can  any  one  shake  his  faith  that 
he  will  come." 

«  How— as  king  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  bringing  the  doom  of  Rome  —  so  says  the 
sheik." 

Ben-IIur  kept  silent  awhile,  thinking  and  trying  to  con 
trol  his  feeling. 

"  The  old  man  is  one  of  many  millions,"  he  said,  slowly 
— "  one  of  many  millions  each  with  a  wrong  to  avenge ; 
and  this  strange  faith,  Malluch,  is  bread  and  wine  to  his 
hope  ;  for  who  but  a  Herod  may  be  King  of  the  Jews  while 
Rome  endures?  But,  following  the  story,  did  you  hear 
what  Simonides  said  to  him  ?" 

"  If  Ilderim  is  a  grave  man,  Simonides  is  a  wise  one," 
Malluch  replied.  "  I  listened,  and  he  said —  But  hark  ! 
Some  one  comes  overtaking  us." 

The  noise  grew  louder,  until  presently  they  heard  the 
rumble  of  wheels  mixed  with  the  beating  of  horse-hoofs — 
a  moment  later  Sheik  Ilderim  himself  appeared  on  horse 
back  followed  by  a  train,  among  which  were  the  four  wine- 
red  Arabs  drawing  the  chariot.  The  sheik's  chin,  in  its 
muffling  of  long  white  beard,  was  drooped  upon  his  breast. 
Our  friends  had  out-travelled  him ;  but  at  sight  of  them 
he  raised  his  head  and  spoke  kindly. 

"  Peace  to  you  ! — Ah,  my  friend.  Malluch  !  Welcome  ! 
And  tell  me  you  are  not  going,  but  just  come ;  that  you 
have  something  for  me  from  the  good  Simonides — may 
the  Lord  of  his  fathers  keep  him  in  life  for  many  years  to 
come  !  Ay,  take  up  the  straps,  both  of  you,  and  follow  me. 
I  have  bread  and  leben,  or,  if  you  prefer  it,  arrack,  and  the 
flesh  of  young  kid.  Come  !" 

They  followed  after  him  to  the  door  of  the  tent,  in  which, 
when  they  were  dismounted,  he  stood  to  receive  them,  hold- 


236  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ing  a  platter  with  three  cups  filled  with  creamy  liquor  just 
drawn  from  a  great  smoke  -  stained  skin  bottle,  pendent 
from  the  central  post. 

"  Drink,"  he  said,  heartily,  "  drink,  for  this  is  the  fear- 
naught  of  the  tentmen." 

They  each  took  a  cup,  and  drank  till  but  the  foam  re 
mained. 

"  Enter  now,  in  God's  name." 

And  when  they  were  gone  in,  Malluch  took  the  sheik 
aside,  and  spoke  to  him  privately  ;  after  which  he  went  to 
Ben-IIur  'and  excused  himself. 

"  I  have  told  the  sheik  about  you,  and  he  will  give  you 
the  trial  of  his  horses  in  the  morning.  He  is  your  friend. 
Having  done  for  you  all  I  can,  you  must  do  the  rest,  and 
let  me  return  to  Antioch.  There  is  one  there  who  has  my 
promise  to  meet  him  to-night.  I  have  no  choice  but  to  go. 
I  will  come  back  to-morrow  prepared,  if  all  goes  well  in  the 
meantime,  to  stay  with  you  until  the  games  are'over." 

With  blessings  given  and  received,  Malluch  set  out  in  re 
turn. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

WHAT  time  the  lower  horn  of  a  new  moon  touched  the 
castellated  piles  on  Mount  Sulpius,  and  two  thirds  of  the 
people  of  Antioch  were  out  on  their  house-tops  comforting 
themselves  with  the  night  breeze  when  it  blew,  and  with 
fans  when  it  failed,  Simonides  sat  in  the  chair  which  had 
come  to  be  a  part  of  him,  and  from  the  terrace  looked  down 
over  the  river,  and  his  ships  a-swing  at  their  moorings.  The 
wall  at  his  back  cast  its  shadow  broadly  over  the  water  to 
the  opposite  shore.  Above  him  the  endless  tramp  upon  the 
bridge  went  on.  Esther  was  holding  a  plate  for  him  con 
taining  his  frugal  supper — some  wheaten  cakes,  light  as 
wafers,  some  honey,  and  a  bowl  of  milk,  into  which  he  now 
and  then  dipped  the  wafers  after  dipping  them  into  the 
honey. 

"  Malluch  is  a  laggard  to-night,"  he  said,  showing  where 
his  thoughts  were. 


BEN-UUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  237 

"  Do  you  believe  he  will  come  ?"  Esther  asked. 

"  Unless  he  has  taken  to  the  sea  or  the  desert,  and  is 
yet  following  on,  he  will  come." 

Simonides  spoke  with  quiet  confidence. 

"  He  may  write,"  she  said. 

"  Not  so,  Esther.  He  would  have  despatched  a  letter 
when  he  found  he  could  not  return,  and  told  me  so ;  be 
cause  I  have  not  received  such  a  letter,  I  know  he  can  come, 
and  will." 

"  I  hope  so,"  she  said,  very  softly. 

Something  in  the  utterance  attracted  his  attention ;  it 
might  have  been  the  tone,  it  might  have  been  the  wish. 
The  smallest  bird  cannot  light  upon  the  greatest  tree  with 
out  sending  a  shock  to  its  most  distant  fibre ;  every  mind 
is  at  times  no  less  sensitive  to  the  most  trifling  words. 

"  You  wish  him  to  come,  Esther  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  lifting  her  eyes  to  his. 

"  Why  ?.  Can  you  tell  me?"  he  persisted. 

"Because" — she  hesitated,  then  began  again — "because 
the  young  man  is —  The  stop  was  full. 

"  Our  master.     Is  that  the  word  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  still  think  I  should  not  suffer  him  to  go  away 
without  telling  him  to  come,  if  he  chooses,  and  take  us — 
and  all  we  have — all,  Esther — the  goods,  the  shekels,  the 
ships,  the  slaves,  and  the  mighty  credit,  which  is  a  mantle 
of  cloth  of  gold  and  finest  silver  spun  for  me  by  the  great 
est  of  the  angels  of  men — Success." 

She  made  no  answer. 

"  Does  that  move  you  nothing  ?  No  ?"  he  said,  with  the 
slightest  taint  of  bitterness.  "  Well,  well,  I  have  found, 
Esther,  the  worst  reality  is  never  unendurable  when  it  comes 
out  from  behind  the  clouds  through  which  we  at  first  see 
it  darkly — never — not  even  the  rack.  I  suppose  it  will  be 
so  with  death.  And  by  that  philosophy  the  slavery  to 
which  we  are  going  must  afterwhile  become  sweet.  It 
pleases  me  even  now  to  think  what  a  favored  man  our  mas 
ter  is.  The  fortune  cost  him  nothing — not  an  anxiety,  not 
a  drop  of  sweat,  not  so  much  as  a  thought ;  it  attaches  to 
him  undreamed  of,  and  in  his  youth.  And,  Esther,  let  me 


238  BEN-UUR:  A  TALE   OF  TUB   CHRIST. 

waste  a  little  vanity  with  the  reflection ;  he  gets  what  lie 
could  not  go  into  the  market  and  buy  with  all  the  pelf  in 
a  sum — thee,  my  child,  my  darling  ;  thou  blossom  from  the 
tomb  of  my  lost  Rachel !" 

He  drew  her  to  him,  and  kissed  her  twice — once  for  her 
self,  once  for  her  mother. 

"  Say  not  so,"  she  said,  when  his  hand  fell  from  her  neck. 
"  Let  us  think  better  of  him  ;  he  knows  what  sorrow  is,  and 
will  set  us  free." 

"  Ah,  thy  instincts  are  fine,  Esther  ;  and  thou  knowest  I 
lean  upon  them  in  doubtful  cases  where  good  or  bad  is  to 
be  pronounced  of  a  person  standing  before  thee  as  he  stood 
this  morning.  But — but " — his  voice  rose  and  hardened — 
"  these  limbs  upon  which  I  cannot  stand — this  body  drawn 
and  beaten  out  of  human  shape — they  are  not  all  I  bring 
him  of  myself.  Oh  no,  no  !  I  bring  him  a  soul  which  has 
triumphed  over  torture  and  Roman  malice  keener  than  any 
torture — I.  bring  him  a  mind  which  has  eyes  to  see  gold  at 
a  distance  farther  than  the  ships  of  Solomon  sailed,  and 
power  to  bring  it  to  hand — ay,  Esther,  into  my  palm  here 
for  the  fingers  to  grip  and  keep  lest  it  take  wings  at  some 
other's  word — a  mind  skilled  at  scheming  " — he  stopped 
and  laughed — "  Why,  Esther,  before  the  new  moon  which 
in  the  courts  of  the  Temple  on  the  Holy  Hill  they  are  this 
moment  celebrating  passes  into  its  next  quartering  I  could 
ring  the  world  so  as  to  startle  even  Caesar ;  for  know  you, 
child,  I  have  that  faculty  which  is  better  than  any  one  sense, 
better  than  a  perfect  body,  better  than  courage  and  will, 
better  than  experience,  ordinarily  the  best  product  of  the 
longest  lives — the  faculty  divinest  of  men,  but  which  " — he 
stopped,  and  laughed  again,  not  bitterly,  but  with  real  zest 
— "  but  >vhich  even  the  great  do  not  sufficiently  account, 
while  with  the  herd  it  is  a  non-existent — the  faculty  of 
drawing  men  to  my  purpose  and  holding  them  faithfully  to 
its  achievement,  by  which,  as  against  things  to  be  done,  I. 
multiply  myself  into  hundreds  and  thousands.  So  the  cap 
tains  of  my  ships  plough  the  seas,  and  bring  me  honest  re 
turns  ;  so  Malluch  follows  the  youth,  our  master,  and  will " 
— just  then  a  footstep  was  heard  upon  the  terrace — "  Ha, 
Esther  !  said  I  not  so  ?  He  is  here — and  we  will  have  tid- 


BEN-I1UR:  A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  239 

ings.  For  thy  sake,  sweet  child — my  lily  just  budded — I 
pray  the  Lord  God,  who  has  not  forgotten  his  wandering 
sheep  of  Israel,  that  they  be  good  and  comforting.  Now  we 
will  know  if  he  will  let  thec  go  with  all  thy  beauty,  and  me 
with  all  my  faculties." 

Malluch  came  to  the  chair. 

"  Peace  to  you,  good  master,"  he  said,  with  a  low  obei 
sance — "  and  to  you,  Esther,  most  excellent  of  daughters." 

He  stood  before  them  deferentially,  and  the  attitude  and 
the  address  left  it  difficult  to  define  his  relation  to  them ; 
the  one  was  that  of  a  servant,  the  other  indicated  the  famil 
iar  and  friend.  On  the  other  side,  Simonides,  as  was  his 
habit  in  business,  after  answering  the  salutation  went  straight 
to  the  subject. 

"  What  of  the  young  man,  Malluch  ?" 

The  events  of  the  day  were  told  quietly  and  in  the  sim 
plest  words,  and  until  he  was  through  there  was  no  inter 
ruption  ;  nor  did  the  listener  in  the  chair  so  much  as  move 
a  hand  during  the  narration ;  but  for  his  eyes,  wide  open 
and  bright,  and  an  occcasional  long-drawn  breath,  he  might 
have  been  accounted  an  effigy. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  Malluch,"  he  said,  heartily,  at 
the  conclusion  ;  "  you  have  done  well — no  one  could  have 
done  better.  Now  what  say  you  of  the  young  man's  na 
tionality  ?" 

"  He  is  an  Israelite,  good  master,  and  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah." 

"  You  are  positive  ?" 

"  Very  positive." 

"  He  appears  to  have  told  you  but  little  of  his  life." 

"  He  has  somewhere  learned  to  be  prudent.  I  might 
call  him  distrustful.  lie  baffled  all  my  attempts  upon  his 
confidence  until  we  started  from  the  Castalian  fount  going 
to  the  village  of  Daphne." 

"  A  place  of  abomination  !     Why  went  he  there  ?" 

"  I  would  say  from  curiosity,  the  first  motive  of  the 
many  who  go  ;  but,  very  strangely,  lie  took  no  interest  in 
the  things  he  saw.  Of  the  Temple,  he  merely  asked  if  it 
were  Grecian.  Good  master,  the  young  man  has  a  trouble 
of  mind  from  which  he  would  hide,  and  he  went  to  the 


240  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE    OF  TUE   CHRIST. 

Grove,  I  think,  as  we  go  to  sepulchres  with  our  dead  —  he 
went  to  bury  it." 

"  That  were  well,  if  so,"  Simonides  said,  in  a  low  voice  ; 
then  louder,  "  Malluch,  the  curse  of  the  time  is  prodigality. 
The  poor  make  themselves  poorer  as  apes  of  the  rich,  and 
the  merely  rich  carry  themselves  like  princes.  Saw  you 
signs  of  the  weakness  in  the  youth  ?  Did  he  display 
moneys — coin  of  Rome  or  Israel  ?" 

"  None,  none,  good  master." 

"  Surely,  Malluch,  where  there  are  so  many  inducements 
to  folly — so  much,  I  mean,  to  eat  and  drink — surely  he 
made  you  generous  offer  of  some  sort.  His  age,  if  noth 
ing  more,  would  warrant  that  much." 

"  He  neither  ate  nor  drank  in  my  company." 

"  In  what  he  said  or  did,  Malluch,  could  you  in  anywise 
detect  his  master-idea?  Yon  know  they  peep  through 
cracks  close  enough  to  stop  the  wind." 

"  Give  me  to  understand  you,"  said  Malluch,  in  doubt. 

"  Well,  you  know  we  nor  speak  nor  act,  much  less  de 
cide  grave  questions  concerning  ourselves,  except  as  we  be 
driven  by  a  motive.  In  that  respect,  what  made  you  of 
him  ?" 

"  As  to  that,  Master  Simonides,  I  can  answer  with  much 
assurance.  He  is  devoted  to  finding  his  mother  and  sis 
ter — that  first.  Then  he  has  a  grievance  against  Rome ; 
and  as  the  Messala  of  whom  I  told  you  had  something 
to  do  with  the  wrong,  the  great  present  object  is  to  hu 
miliate  him.  The  meeting  at  the  fountain  furnished  an  op 
portunity,  but  it  was  put  aside  as  not  sufficiently  public." 

"  The  Messala  is  influential,"  said  Simonides,  thought 
fully. 

"  Yes ;  but  the  next  meeting  Avill  be  in  the  Circus." 

«  AVcll— and  then  ?" 

"  The  son  of  Arrius  will  win." 

"  How  know  you  ?" 

Malluch  smiled. 

"  I  am  judging  by  what  he  says." 

"  Is  that  all  ?" 

"  No  ;  there  is  a  much  better  sign — his  spirit.*' 

"Ay;    but,  Malluch,  his  idea  of  vengeance  —  what  is 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  241 

its  scope  ?  Does  lie  limit  it  to  the  few  who  did  him  the 
wrong,  or  does  he  take  in  the  many  ?  And  more  —  is  his 
feeling  but  the  vagary  of  a  sensitive  boy,  or  has  it  the  sea 
soning  of  suffering  manhood  to  give  it  endurance  ?  You 
know,  Malluch,  the  vengeful  thought  that  has  root  merely 
in  the  mind  is  but  a  dream  of  idlest  sort  which  one  clear 
day  will  dissipate ;  while  revenge  the  passion  is  a  disease 
of  the  heart  which  climbs  up,  up  to  the  brain,  and  feeds 
itself  on  both  alike." 

In  this  question,  Simonides  for  the  first  time  showed 
signs  of  feeling ;  he  spoke  with  rapid  utterance,  and  with 
clenched  hands  and  the  eagerness  of  a  man  illustrating 
the  disease  he  described. 

"  Good  my  master,"  Malluch  replied,  "  one  of  my  reasons 
for  believing  the  young  man  a  Jew  is  the  intensity  of  his 
hate.  It  was  plain  to  me  he  had  himself  under  watch,  as 
was  natural,  seeing  how  long  he  has  lived  in  an  atmosphere 
of  Roman  jealousy ;  yet  I  saw  it  blaze — once  when  he 
wanted  to  know  Ilderim's  feeling  towards  Rome,  and  again 
when  I  told  him  the  story  of  the  sheik  and  the  wise  man, 
and  spoke  of  the  question, '  Where  is  he  that  is  born  King 
of  the  Jews  ?' " 

Simonides  leaned  forward  quickly. 

"  Ah,  Malluch,  his  words — give  me  his  words ;  let  me 
judge  the  impression  the  mystery  made  upon  him." 

"  He  wanted  to  know  the  exact  words.  Were  they  to  be 
or  born  to  be  ?  It  appeared  he  was  struck  by  a  seeming 
difference  in  the  effect  of  the  two  phrases." 

Simonides  settled  back  into  his  pose  of  listening  judge. 

"  Then,"  said  Malluch,  "  I  told  him  Ilderim's  view  of  the 
mystery — that  the  king  would  come  with  the  doom  of 
Rome.  The  young  man's  blood  rose  over  his  cheeks  and 
forehead,  and  he  said  earnestly,  '  Who  but  a  Herod  can  be 
king  while  Rome  endures  ?'  " 

"  Meaning  what  ?" 

"  That  the  empire  must  be  destroyed  before  there  could 
be  another  rule." 

Simonides  gazed  for  a  time  at  the  ships  and  their  shad 
ows  slowly  swinging  together  in  the  river ;  when  he  looked 
up,  it  was  to  end  the  interview. 
16 


242  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST. 

"Enough,  Malluch,"  he  said.  "Get  you  to  eat,  and 
make  ready  to  return  to  the  Orchard  of  Palms ;  you  must 
help  the  young  man  in  his  coming  trial.  Come  to  me  in 
the  morning.  I  will  send  a  letter  to  Ilderim."  Then  in 
an  undertone,  as  if  to  himself,  he  added,  "  I  may  attend 
the  Circus  myself." 

When  Malluch  after  the  customary  benediction  given 
and  received  was  gone,  Simonides  took  a  deep  draught  of 
milk,  and  seemed  refreshed  and  easy  of  mind. 

"  Put  the  meal  down,  Esther,"  he  said  ;  "  it  is  over." 

She  obeyed. 

"  Here  now." 

She  resumed  her  place  upon  the  arm  of  the  chair  close 
to  him. 

"  God  is  good  to  me,  very  good,"  he  said,  fervently. 
"  His  habit  is  to  move  in  mystery,  yet  sometimes  he  per 
mits  us  to  think  we  see  and  understand  him.  I  am  old, 
dear,  and  must  go ;  but  now,  in  this  eleventh  hour,  when 
my  hope  was  beginning  to  die,  he  sends  me  this  one  with 
a  promise,  and  I  am  lifted  up.  I  see  the  way  to  a  great 
part  in  a  circumstance  itself  so  great  that  it  shall  be  as  a 
new  birth  to  the  whole  world.  And  I  see  a  reason  for 
the  gift  of  my  great  riches,  and  the  end  for  which  they 
were  designed.  Verily,  my  child,  I  take  hold  on  life 
anew." 

Esther  nestled  closer  to  him,  as  if  to  bring  his  thoughts 
from  their  far-flying. 

"  The  king  has  been  born,"  he  continued,  imagining  he 
was  still  speaking  to  her,  "  and  he  must  be  near  the  half  of 
common  life.  Balthasar  says  he  was  a  child  on  his  moth 
er's  lap  when  he  saw  him,  and  gave  him  presents  and  wor 
ship  ;  and  Ilderim  holds  it  was  twenty-seven  years  ago  last 
December  when  Balthasar  and  his  companions  came  to  his 
tent  asking  a  hiding-place  from  Herod.  Wherefore  the 
coming  cannot  now  be  long  delayed.  To-night — to-mor 
row  it  may  be.  Holy  fathers  of  Israel,  what  happiness  in 
the  thought  ?  I  seem  to  hear  the  crash  of  the  falling  of 
old  walls  and  the  clamor  of  a  universal  change — ay,  and 
for  the  uttermost  joy  of  men,  the  earth  opens  to  take  Home 
in,  and  they  look  up  and  laugh  and  sing  that  she  is  not, 


BEN-HCR:   A  TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST.  243 

while  we  are  ;"  then  he  laughed  at  himself.  "  Why,  Es 
ther,  heard  you  ever  the  like  ?  Surely,  I  have  on  me  the 
passion  of  a  singer,  the  heat  of  blood  and  the  thrill  of 
Miriam  and  David.  In  my  thoughts,  which  should  be 
those  of  a  plain  worker  in  figures  and  facts,  there  is  a  con 
fusion  of  cymbals  clashing  and  harp-strings  loud  beaten, 
and  the  voices  of  a  multitude  standing  around  a  new-risen 
throne.  I  will  put  the  thinking  by  for  the  present ;  only, 
dear,  when  the  king  comes  he  will  need  money  and  men, 
for  as  he  was  a  child  born  of  woman  he  will  be  but  a  man 
after  all,  bound  to  human  ways  as  you  and  I  are.  And  for 
the  money  he  will  have  need  of  getters  and  keepers,  and 
for  the  men  leaders.  There',  there  !  See  you  not  a  broad 
road  for  my  walking,  and  the  running  of  the  youth  our 
master? — and  at  the  end  of  it  glory  and  revenge  for  us 
both  ? — and — and  " — he  paused,  struck  with  the  selfish 
ness  of  a  scheme  in  which  she  had  no  part  or  good  result ; 
then  added,  kissing  her,  "  And  happiness  for  thy  mother's 
child." 

She  sat  still,  saying  nothing.  Then  he  remembered  the 
difference  in  natures,  and  the  law  by  which  we  are  not 
permitted  always  to  take  delight  in  the  same  cause  or  be 
equally  afraid  of  the  same  thing.  lie  remembered  she 
was  but  a  girl. 

"  Of  what  are  you  thinking,  Esther  ?"  he  said,  in  his  com 
mon  home-like  way.  "  If  the  thought  have  the  form  of  a 
wish,  give  it  me,  little  one,  while  the  power  remains  mine. 
For  power,  you  know,  is  a  fretful  thing,  and  hath  its  wings 
always  spread  for  flight." 

She  answered  with  a  simplicity  almost  childish, 

"  Send  for  him,  father.  Send  for  him  to-night,  and  do 
not  let  him  go  into  the  Circus." 

"  Ah  !"  he  said,  prolonging  the  exclamation  ;  and  again 
his  eyes  fell  upon  the  river,  where  the  shadows  were  more 
shadowy  than  ever,  since  the  moon  had  sunk  far  down 
behind  Sulpius,  leaving  the  city  to  the  ineffectual  stars. 
Shall  we  say  it,  reader  ?  He  was  touched  by  a  twinge  of 
jealousy.  If  she  should  really  love  the  young  master ! 
Oh  no  !  That  could  not  be  ;  she  was  too  young.  But  the 
idea  had  fast  grip,  and  directly  held  him  still  and  cold. 


244  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

She  was  sixteen.  He  knew  it  well.  On  the  last  natal  day 
he  had  gone  with  her  to  the  shipyard  where  there  was  a 
launch,  and  the  yellow  flag  which  the  galley  bore  to  its 
bridal  with  the  waves  had  on  it  "  Esther ;"  so  they  cele 
brated  the  day  together.  Yet  the  fact  struck  him  now 
with  the  force  of  a  surprise.  There  are  realizations  which 
come  to  us  all  painfully  ;  mostly,  however,  such  as  pertain 
to  ourselves ;  that  we  are  growing  old,  for  instance ;  and, 
more  terrible,  that  we  must  die.  Such  a  one  crept  into  his 
heart,  shadowy  as  the  shadows,  yet  substantial  enough  to 
wring  from  him  a  sigh  which  was  almost  a  groan.  It  was 
not  sufficient  that  she  should  enter  upon  her  young  woman 
hood  a  servant,  but  she  must  carry  to  her  master  her  affec 
tions,  the  truth  and  tenderness  and  delicacy  of  which  he 
the  father  so  well  knew,  because  to  this  time  they  had  all 
been  his  own  undividedly.  The  fiend  whose  task  it  is  to 
torture  us  with  fears  and  bitter  thoughts  seldom  does  his 
work  by  halves.  In  the  pang  of  the  moment,  the  brave 
old  man  lost  sight  of  his  new  scheme,  and  of  the  mirac 
ulous  king  its  subject.  By  a  mighty  effort,  however,  he 
controlled  himself,  and  asked,  calmly,  "  Not  go  into  the 
Circus,  Esther  ?  Why,  child  ?" 

"  It  is  not  a  place  for  a  son  of  Israel,  father." 

"  Rabbinical,  rabbinical,  Esther  !     Is  that  all  ?" 

The  tone  of  the  inquiry  was  searching,  and  went  to  her 
heart,  which  began  to  beat  loudly — so  loudly  she  could  not 
answer.  A  confusion  new  and  strangely  pleasant  fell  upon 
her. 

"  The  young  man  is  to  have  the  fortune,"  he  said,  tak 
ing  her  hand,  and  speaking  more  tenderly ;  "  he  is  to  have 
the  ships  and  the  shekels — all,  Esther,  all.  Yet  I  did  not 
feel  poor,  for  thou  wert  left  me,  and  thy  love  so  like  the 
dead  Rachel's.  Tell  me,  is  he  to  have  that  too  ?" 

She  bent  over  him,  and  laid  her  cheek  against  his  head. 

"  Speak,  Esther.  I  will  be  the  stronger  of  the  knowl 
edge.  In  warning  there  is  strength." 

She  sat  up  then,  and  spoke  as  if  she  were  Truth's  holy 
self. 

"  Comfort  the^e,  father.  I  will  never  leave  tliee  ;  though 
he  take  my  love,  I  will  be  thy  handmaid  ever  as  now." 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  245 

And,  stooping,  she  kissed  him. 

"  And  more,"  sh'e  said,  continuing,  "  he  is  comely  in 
my  sight,  and  the  pleading  of  his  voice  drew  me  to  him, 
and  I  shudder  to  think  of  him  in  danger.  Yes,  father,  I 
would  be  more  than  glad  to  see  him  again.  Still,  the 
love  that  is  unrequited  cannot  be  perfect  love,  wherefore  I 
will  wait  a  time,  remembering  I  am  thy  daughter  and  my 
mother's." 

"  A  very  blessing  of  the  Lord  art  thou,  Esther !  A 
blessing  to  keep  me  rich,  though  all  else  be  lost.  And 
by  his  holy  name  and  everlasting  life,  I  swear  thou  shalt 
not  suffer." 

At  his  request,  a  little  later,  the  servant  came  and  rolled 
the  chair  into  the  room,  where  he  sat  for  a  time  thinking 
of  the  coming  of  the  king,  while  she  went  off  and  slept 
the  sleep  of  the  innocent. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  palace  across  the  river  nearly  opposite  Simonides' 
place  is  said  to  have  been  completed  by  the  famous  Epiph- 
anes,  and  was  all  such  a  habitation  can  be  imagined ; 
though  he  was  a  builder  whose  taste  ran  to  the  immense 
rather  than  the  classical,  now  so  called — an  architectural 
imitator,  in  other  words,  of  the  Persians  instead  of  the 
Greeks. 

The  wall  enclosing  the  whole  island  to  the  water's  edge, 
and  built  for  the  double  purpose  of  bulwark  against  the 
river  and  defence  against  the  mob,  was  said  to  have  ren 
dered  the  palace  unfit  for  constant  occupancy,  insomuch 
that  the  legates  abandoned  it  and  moved  to  another  resi 
dence  erected  for  them  on  the  western  ridge  of  Mount 
Sulpius,  under  the  Temple  of  Jupiter.  Persons  were  not 
wanting,  however,  who  flatly  denied  the  bill  against  the  an 
cient  abode.  They  said,  with  shrewdness  at  least,  that  the 
real  object  of  the  removal  of  the  legates  was  not  a  more 
healthful  locality,  but  the  assurance  afforded  them  by 
the  huge  barracks,  named,  according  to  the  prevalent  style, 
citadel,  situated  just  over  the  way  on  the  eastern  ridge 


246  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

of  the  mount.  And  the  opinion  had  plausible  showing. 
Among  other  pertinent  things,  it  was'  remarked  that  the 
palace  was  kept  in  perpetual  readiness  for  use  ;  and  when 
a  consul,  general  of  the  army,  king,  or  visiting  potentate 
of  any  kind  arrived  at  Antioch,  quarters  were  at  once  as 
signed  him  on  the  island. 

As  we  have  to  do  with  but  one  apartment  in  the  old 
pile,  the  residue  of  it  is  left  to  the  reader's  fancy  ;  and  as 
pleases  him,  he  may  go  through  its  gardens,  baths,  halls, 
and  labyrinth  of  rooms  to  the  pavilions  on  the  roof,  all 
furnished  as  became  a  house  of  fame  in  a  city  which  was 
more  nearly  Milton's  "  gorgeous  East "  than  any  other  in 
the  world. 

At  this  age  the  apartment  alluded  to  would  be  termed  a 
saloon.  It  was  quite  spacious,  floored  with  polished  marble 
slabs,  and  lighted  in  the  day  by  skylights  in  which  colored 
mica  served  as  glass.  The  walls  were  broken  by  Atlantes, 
no  two  of  which  were  alike,  but  all  supporting  a  cornice 
wrought  with  arabesques  exceedingly  intricate  in  form,  and 
more  elegant  on  account  of  superadditions  of  color — blue, 
green,  Tyrian  purple,  and  gold.  Around  the  room  ran  a 
continuous  divan  of  Indian  silks  and  wool  of  Cashmere. 
The  furniture  consisted  of  tables  and  stools  of  Egyptian 
patterns  grotesquely  carved.  We  have  left  Simonides  in 
his  chair  perfecting  his  scheme  in  aid  of  the  miraculous 
king,  whose  coming  he  has  decided  is  so  close  at  hand. 
Esther  is  asleep  ;  and  now,  having  crossed  the  river  by  the 
bridge,  and  made  way  through  the  lion-guarded  gate  and  a 
number  of  Babylonian  halls  and  courts,  let  us  enter  the 
gilded  saloon. 

There  are  five  chandeliers  hanging  by  sliding  bronze 
chains  from  the  ceiling — one  in  each  corner,  and  in  the 
centre  one — enormous  pyramids  of  lighted  lamps,  illumi 
nating  even  the  demoniac  faces  of  the  Atlantes  and  the 
complex  tracery  of  the  cornice.  About  the  tables,  seated 
or  standing,  or  moving  restlessly  from  one  to  another,  there 
are  probably  a  hundred  persons,  whom  we  must  study  at 
least  for  a  moment. 

They  are  all  young,  some  of  them  little  more  than  boys. 
That  they  are  Italians  and  mostly  Romans  is  past  doubt. 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  247 

They  all  speak  Latin  in  purity,  while  each  one  appears  in 
the  in-door  dress  of  the  great  capital  on  the  Tiber  ;  that  is, 
in  tunics  short  of  sleeve  and  skirt,  a  style  of  vesture  well 
adapted  to  the  climate  of  Antioch,  and  especially  comfort 
able  in  the  too  close  atmosphere  of  the  saloon.  On  the 
divan  here  and  there  togas  and  lacernse  lie  where  they  have 
been  carelessly  tossed,  some  of  them  significantly  bordered 
with  purple.  On  the  divan  also  lie  sleepers  stretched  at 
ease ;  whether  they  were  overcome  by  the  heat  and  fatigue 
of  the  sultry  day  or  by  Bacchus  we  will  not  pause  to  in 
quire. 

The  hum  of  voices  is  loud  and  incessant.  Sometimes 
there  is  an  explosion  of  laughter,  sometimes  a  burst  of  rage 
or  exultation ;  but  over  all  prevails  a  sharp,  prolonged  rattle, 
at  first  somewhat  confusing  to  the  non-familiar.  If  we  ap 
proach  the  tables,  however,  the  mystery  solves  itself.  The 
company  is  at  the  favorite  games,  draughts  and  dice,  singly 
or  together,  and  the  rattle  is  merely  of  the  tesserae,  or  ivory 
cubes,  loudly  shaken,  and  the  moving  of  the  hostes  on  the 
checkered  boards. 

Who  are  the  company  ? 

"  Good  Flavius,"  said  a  player,  holding  his  piece  in  sus 
pended  movement,  "  thou  seest  yon  lacerna ;  that  one  in 
front  of  us  on  the  divan.  It  is  fresh  from  the  shop,  and 
hath  a  shoulder-buckle  of  gold  broad  as  a  palm." 

"  Well,"  said  Flavius,  intent  upon  his  game,  "  I  have  seen 
such  before ;  wherefore  thine  may  not  be  old,  yet,  by  the 
girdle  of  Venus,  it  is  not  new  !  What  of  it  ?" 

"Nothing.  Only  I  would  give  it  to  find  a  man  who 
knows  everything." 

"  Ha,  ha !  For  something  cheaper  I  will  find  thee  here 
several  with  purple  who  will  take  thy  offer.  But  play." 

'  There— check !" 

'So,  by  all  the  Jupitcrs!  Now,  what  sayest  thou?  Again?" 

'  Be  it  so." 

'  And  the  wager  ?" 

'  A  sestertium." 

Then  each  drew  his  tablets  and  stilus  and  made  a  mem 
orandum  ;  and,  while  they  were  resetting  the  pieces,  Flavius 
returned  to  his  friend's  remark. 


248  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"A  man  who  knows  everything!  Herde !  the  oracles 
would  die.  What  wouldst  thou  with  such  a  monster  ?" 

"Answer  to  one  question,  my  Flavins;  then,  perpol!  I 
would  cut  his  throat." 

"  And  the  question  ?" 

"  I  would  have  him  tell  me  the  hour —  Hour,  said  I  ? 
— nay,  the  minute — Maxentius  will  arrive  to-morrow." 

"  Good  play,  good  play  !  I  have  you  !  And  why  the 
minute  ?" 

"  Hast  thou  ever  stood  uncovered  in  the  Syrian  sun  on 
the  quay  at  which  he  will  land  ?  The  fires  of  the  Vesta  are 
not  so  hot ;  and,  by  the  Stator  of  our  father  Romulus,  I 
would  die,  if  die  I  must,  in  Rome.  Avernus  is  here  ;  there, 
in  the  square  before  the  Forum,  I  could  stand,  and,  with  my 
hand  raised  thus,  touch  the  floor  of  the  gods.  Ha,  by 
Venus,  my  Flavius,  thou  didst  beguile  me !  I  have  lost. 
0  Fortune  !" 

"  Again  ?" 

"  I  must  have  back  my  sestertium." 

"  Be  it  so." 

And  they  played  again  and  again  ;  and  when  day,  steal 
ing  through  the  skylights,  began  to  dim  the  lamps,  it  found 
the  two  in  the  same  places  at  the  same  table,  still  at  the 
game.  Like  most  of  the  company,  they  were  military  at 
taches  of  the  consul,  awaiting  his  arrival  and  amusing 
themselves  meantime. 

During  this  conversation  a  party  entered  the  room,  and, 
imnoticed  at  first,  proceeded  to  the  central  table.  The  signs 
were  that  they  had  come  from  a  revel  just  dismissed.  Some 
of  them  kept  their  feet  with  difficulty.  Around  the  lead 
er's  brow  was  a  chaplet  which  marked  him  master  of  the 
feast,  if  not  the  giver.  The  wine  had  made  no  impression 
upon  him  unless  to  heighten  his  beauty,  which  was  of  the 
most  manly  Roman  style  ;  he  carried  his  head  high  raised  ; 
the  blood  flushed  his  lips  and  cheeks  brightly ;  his  eyes 
glittered  ;  though  the  manner  in  which,  shrouded  in  a  toga 
spotless  white  and  of  ample  folds,  he  walked  was  too  nearly 
imperial  for  one  sober  and  not  a  Crcsar.  In  going  to  the 
table,  he  made  room  for  himself  and  his  followers  with 
little  ceremony  and  no  apologies ;  and  when  at  length  he 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  249 

stopped,  and  looked  over  it  and  at  the  players,  they  all 
turned  to  him,  with  a  shout  like  a  cheer. 

"  Messala  !  Messala  !"  they  cried. 

Those  in  distant  quarters,  hearing  the  cry,  re-echoed  it 
where  they  were.  Instantly  there  were  dissolutions  of 
groups,  and  breaking-up  of  games,  and  a  general  rush  tow 
ards  the  centre. 

Messala  took  the  demonstration  indifferently,  and  pro 
ceeded  presently  to  show  the  ground  of  his  popularity. 

"  A  health  to  thee,  Drusus,  my  friend,"  he  said  to  the 
player  next  at  his  right ;  "  a  health — and  thy  tablets  a  mo 
ment." 

He  raised  the  waxen  boards,  glanced  at  the  memoranda 
of  wagers,  and  tossed  them  down. 

"  Denarii,  only  denarii — coin  of  cartmen  and  butchers  !" 
he  said,  with  a  scornful  laugh.  "  By  the  drunken  Semele, 
to  what  is  Rome  coming,  when  a  Caesar  sits  o'  nights  wait 
ing  a  turn  of  fortune  to  bring  him  but  a  beggarly  denarius  !" 

The  scion  of  the  Drusi  reddened  to  his  brows,  but  the 
bystanders  broke  in  upon  his  reply  by  surging  closer  around 
the  table,  and  shouting,  "  The  Messala  !  the  Messala  !" 

"  Men  of  the  Tiber,"  Messala  continued,  wresting  a  box 
with  the  dice  in  it  from  a  hand  near-by,  "  who  is  he  most 
favored  of  the  gods  ?  A  Roman.  Who  is  he  lawgiver  of 
the  nations  ?  A  Roman.  Who  is  he,  by  sword  right,  the 
universal  master  ?" 

The  company  were  of  the  easily  inspired,  and  the  thought 
was  one  to  which  they  were  born ;  in  a  twinkling  they 
snatched  the  answer  from  him. 

"  A  Roman,  a  Roman  !"  they  shouted. 

"Yet — yet" — he  lingered  to  catch  their  ears  —  "yet 
there  is  a  better  than  the  best  of  Rome." 

He  tossed  his  patrician  head  and  paused,  as  if  to  sting 
them  with  his  sneer. 

"  Hear  ye  ?"  he  asked.  "  There  is  a  better  than  the  best 
of  Rome." 

"Ay — Hercules!"  cried  one. 

"  Bacchus  !"  yelled  a  satirist. 

"  Jove — Jove  !"  thundered  the  crowd. 

"  No,"  Messala  answered,  "  among  men." 


250  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  Name  him,  name  him !"  they  demanded. 

"  I  will,"  he  said,  the  next  lull.  "  lie  who  to  the  per 
fection  of  Rome  hath  added  the  perfection  of  the  East ; 
who  to  the  arm  of  conquest,  which  is  AVestern,  hath  also 
the  art  needful  to  the  enjoyment  of  dominion,  which  is 
Eastern." 

"  Perpol !  His  best  is  a  Roman,  after  all,"  some  one 
shouted ;  and  there  was  a  great  laugh,  and  long  clapping 
of  hands  —  an  admission  that  Messala  had  the  advan 
tage. 

"  In  the  East,"  he  continued,  "  we  have  no  gods,  only 
Wine,  AVomen,  and  Fortune,  and  the  greatest  of  them  is 
Fortune  ;  wherefore  our  motto,  '  AA7ho  dareth  what  I  dare  ?' 
— fit  for  the  senate,  fit  for  battle,  fittest  for  him  who,  seek 
ing  the  best,  challenges  the  worst." 

His  voice  dropped  into  an  easy,  familiar  tone,  but  with 
out  relaxing  the  ascendency  he  had  gained. 

"  In  the  great  chest  up  in  the  citadel  I  have  five  talents 
coin  current  in  the  markets,  and  here  are  the  receipts  for 
them." 

From  his  tunic  he  drew  a  roll  of  paper,  and,  flinging  it 
on  the  table,  continued,  amidst  breathless  silence,  every  eye 
having  him  in  view  fixed  on  his,  every  ear  listening : 

"  The  sum  lies  there  the  measure  of  what  I  dare.  AAlio 
of  you  dares  so  much  ?  You  are  silent.  Is  it  too  great  ? 
I  will  strike  off  one  talent.  AVhat !  still  silent  ?  Come, 
then,  throw  me  once  for  these  three  talents — only  three ; 
for  two ;  for  one — one  at  least — one  for  the  honor  of  the 
river  by  which  you  were  born — Rome  East  against  Rome 
AA'cst ! — Orontes  the  barbarous  against  Tiber  the  sacred  !" 

lie  rattled  the  dice  overhead  while  waiting. 

"  The  Orontes  against  the  Tiber !"  he  repeated,  with  an 
increase  of  scornful  emphasis. 

Not  a  man  moved  ;  then  he  flung  the  box  upon  the  table, 
and,  laughing,"  took  up  the  receipts. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  By  the  Olympian  Jove,  I  know  now  ye 
have  fortunes  to  make  or  to  mend ;  therefore  are  ye  come 
to  Antioch.  Ho,  Cecilius  !" 

"  Here,  Messala  !"  cried  a  man  behind  him  ;  "  here  am  I, 
perishing  in  the  mob,  and  begging  a  drachma  to  settle  with 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  251 

the  ragged  ferryman.  But,  Pluto  take  me  !  these  new  ones 
Lave  not  so  much  as  an  obolus  among  them." 

The  sally  provoked  a  burst  of  laughter,  under  which  the 
saloon  rang  and  rang  again.  Messala  alone  kept  his  grav- 
ity. 

"  Go,  thou,"  he  said  to  Cecilius,  "  to  the  chamber  whence 
we  came,  and  bid  the  servants  bring  the  amphorae  here,  and 
the  cups  and  goblets.  If  these  our  countrymen,  looking 
for  fortune,  have  not  purses,  by  the  Syrian  Bacchus,  I  will 
see  if  they  are  not  better  blessed  with  stomachs  !  Haste 
thee !" 

Then  he  turned  to  Drusus,  with  a  laugh  heard  through 
out  the  apartment. 

"  Ha,  ha,  my  friend !  Be  thou  not  offended  because  I 
levelled  the  Caesar  in  thee  down  to  the  denarii.  Thou 
seest  I  did  but  use  the  name  to  try  these  fine  fledglings  of 
our  old  Rome.  Come,  my  Drusus,  come !"  He  took  up 
the  box  again  and  rattled  the  dice  merrily.  "  Here,  for 
what  sum  thou  Avilt,  let  us  measure  fortunes." 

The  manner  was  frank,  cordial,  winsome.  Drusus  melted 
in  a  moment. 

"  By  the  Nymphae,  yes !"  he  said,  laughing.  "  I  will 
throw  with  thee,  Messala — for  a  denarius." 

A  very  boyish  person  was  looking  over  the  table  watch 
ing  the  scene.  Suddenly  Messala  turned  to  him. 

"  Who  art  thou  ?"  he  asked. 

The  lad  drew  back. 

"  Nay,  by  Castor  !  and  his  brother  too  !  I  meant  not 
offence.  It  is  a  rule  among  men,  in  matters  other  than 
dice,  to  keep  the  record  closest  when  the  deal  is  least.  I 
have  need  of  a  clerk.  Wilt  thou  serve  me  ?" 

The  young  fellow  drew  his  tablets  ready  to  keep  the 
score  :  the  manner  was  irresistible. 

"  Hold,  Messala,  hold  !"  cried  Drusus.  "  I  know  not 
if  it  be  ominous  to  stay  the  poised  dice  with  a  question ; 
but  one  occurs  to  me,  and  I  must  ask  it  though  Venus 
slap  me  with  her  girdle." 

"  Nay,  my  Drusus,  Venus  with  her  girdle  off  is  Venus 
in  love.  To  thy  question — I  will  make  the  throw  and 
hold  it  against  mischance.  Thus — 


252  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

He  turned  the  box  upon  the  table  and  held  it  firmly 
ovt'i1  the  dice. 

And  Drusus  asked,  "  Did  you  ever  see  one  Quintus 
Arrius  ?" 

"  The  duumvir  ?" 

"  No— his  son  ?" 

"  I  knew  not  he  had  a  son." 

*  Well,  it  is  nothing,"  Drusus  added,  indifferently ; 
"  only,  my  Messala,  Pollux  was  not  more  like  Castor  than 
Arrius  is  like  thee." 

The  remark  had  the  effect  of  a  signal :  twenty  voices 
took  it  up. 

"  True,  true  !    His  eyes — his  .face,"  they  cried. 

"  What !"  answered  one,  disgusted.  "  Messala  is  a  Ro 
man  ;  Arrius  is  a  Jew." 

"  Thou  sayest  right,"  a  third  exclaimed.  "  He  is  a  Jew, 
or  Momus  lent  his  mother  the  wrong  mask." 

There  was  promise  of  a  dispute  ;  seeing  which,  Messala 
interposed.  "  The  wine  is  not  come,  my  Drusus  ;  and,  as 
thou  seest,  I  have  the  freckled  Pythias  as  they  were  dogs 
in  leash.  As  to  Arrius,  I  will  accept  thy  opinion  of  him, 
so  thou  tell  me  more  about  him." 

"  Well,  be  he  Jew  or  Roman — and,  by  the  great  god  Pan, 
I  say  it  not  in  disrespect  of  thy  feelings,  my  Messala  ! — 
this  Arrius  is  handsome  and  brave  and  shrewd.  The  em 
peror  offered  him  favor  and  patronage,  which  he  refused. 
He  came  up  through  mystery,  and  keepeth  distance  as  if 
he  felt  himself  better  or  knew  himself  worse  than  the  rest 
of  us.  In  the  palaestra;  he  was  unmatched  ;  he  played 
with  the  blue-eyed  giants  from  the  Rhine  and  the  horn 
less  bulls  of  Sarmatia  as  they  were  willow  wisps.  The 
duumvir  left  him  vastly  rich.  He  has  a  passion  for  arms, 
and  thinks  of  nothing  but  war.  Maxentius  admitted  him 
into  his  family,  and  he  was  to  have  taken  ship  with  us,  but 
we  lost  him  at  Ravenna.  Nevertheless  he  arrived  safely. 
We  heard  of  him  this  morning.  Perpol !  Instead  of 
coming  to  the  palace  or  going  to  the  citadel,  he  dropped 
his  baggage  at  the  khan,  and  hath  disappeared  again." 

At  the  beginning  of  the  speech  Messala  listened  with 
polite  indifference ;  as  it  proceeded,  he  became  more  at- 


BEN-HUR.   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  253 

tentive  ;  at  the  conclusion,  he  took  his  hand  from  the  dice- 
box,  and  called  out,  "  Ho,  my  Caius  !  Dost  thou  hear  ?" 

A  youth  at  his  elbow — his  Myrtilus,  or  comrade,  in  the 
day's  chariot  practice — answered,  much  pleased  with  the 
attention,  "  Did  I  not,  my  Messala,  I  were  not  thy  friend." 

"  Dost  thou  remember  the  man  who  gave  thee  the  fall 
to-day  2" 

"  By  the  love-locks  of  Bacchus,  have  I  not  a  bruised 
shoulder  to  help  me  keep  it  in  mind  ?"  and  he  seconded 
the  words  with  a  shrug  that  submerged  his  ears. 

"  Well,  be  thou  grateful  to  the  Fates — I  have  found  thy 
enemy.  Listen." 

Thereupon  Messala  turned  to  Drusus. 

"  Tell  us  more  of  him — perpol ! — of  him  who  is  both  Jew 
and  Roman — by  Phoebus,  a  combination  to  make  a  Cen 
taur  lovely  !  What  garments  doth  he  affect,  my  Drusus  ?" 

"  Those  of  the  Jews." 

"  llearest  thou,  Caius  ?"  said  Messala.  "  The  fellow  is 
young — one  ;  he  hath  the  visage  of  a  Roman — two  ;  he 
loveth  best  the  garb  of  a  Jew — three  ;  and  in  the  palaestrae 
fame  and  fortune  come  of  arms  to  throw  a  horse  or  tilt  a 
chariot,  as  the  necessity  may  order — four.  And,  Drusus, 
help  thou  my  friend  again.  Doubtless  this  Arrius  hath 
tricks  of  language  ;  otherwise  he  could  not  so  confound 
himself,  to-day  a  Jew,  to-morrow  a  Roman ;  but  of  the 
rich  tongue  of  Athene — discourseth  he  in  that  as  well  ?" 

"  With  such  purity,  Messala,  he  might  have  been  a  con 
testant  in  the  Isthmia." 

"  Art  thou  listening,  Caius  ?"  said  Messala.  "  The  fel 
low  is  qualified  to  salute  a  woman — for  that  matter  Aris- 
tomache  herself — in  the  Greek  ;  and  as  I  keep  the  count, 
that  is  five.  What  sayest  thou  ?" 

"  Thou  hast  found  him,  my  Messala,"  Caius  answered ; 
"  or  I  am  not  myself." 

'*  Thy  pardon,  Drusus — and  pardon  of  all — for  speaking 
in  riddles  thus,"  Messala  said,  in  his  winsome  way.  "  By 
all  the  decent  gods,  I  would  not  strain  thy  courtesy  to  the 
point  of  breaking,  but  now  help  thou  me.  See  !" — he  put 
his  hand  on  the  dice-box  again,  laughing — "  See  how  close 
I  hold  the  Pythias  and  their  secret !  Thou  didst  speak,  I 


254  BEN-HUE:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

think,  of  mystery  in  connection  with  the  coming  of  the 
son  of  Arrius.  Tell  me  of  that." 

"  'Tis  nothing,  Messala,  nothing,"  Drusus  replied ;  "  a 
child's  story.  When  Arrius,  the  father,  sailed  in  pursuit 
of  the  pirates,  he  was  without  wife  or  family  ;  he  returned 
with  a  boy — him  of  whom  we  speak — and  next  day  adopted 
him." 

"Adopted  him?"  Messala  repeated.  "By  the  gods, 
Drusus,  thou  dost,  indeed,  interest  me  !  Where  did  the 
duumvir  find  the  boy  ?  And  who  was  he  ?" 

"  Who  shall  answer  thee  that,  Messala  ?  who  but  the 
young  Arrius  himself  ?  Perpol !  in  the  fight  the  duum 
vir — -then  but  a  tribune — lost  his  galley.  A  returning  ves 
sel  found  him  and  one  other — all  of  the  crew  who  survived 
— afloat  upon  the  same  plank.  I  give  you  now  the  story 
of  the  rescuers,  which  hath  this  excellence  at  least — it  hath 
never  been  contradicted.  They  say,  the  duumvir's  com 
panion  on  the  plank  was  a  Jew — " 

"  A  Jew  !"  echoed  Messala. 

"  And  a  slave." 

"  How  Drusus  ?    A  slave  ?" 

"  When  the  two  were  lifted  to  the  deck,  the  duumvir 
was  in  his  tribune's  armor,  and  the  other  in  the  vesture  of 
a  rower." 

Messala  arose  from  leaning  against  the  table. 

"  A  galley  " — he  checked  the  debasing  word,  and  looked 
around,  for  once  in  his  life  at  loss.  Just  then  a  proces 
sion  of  slaves  filed  into  the  room,  some  with  great  jars  of 
wine,  others  with  baskets  of  fruits  and  confections,  others 
again  with  cups  and  flagons,  mostly  silver.  There  was  in 
spiration  in  the  sight.  Instantly  Messala  climbed  upon  a 
stool. 

"  Men  of  the  Tiber,"  he  said,  in  a  clear  voice,  "  let  us 
turn  this  waiting  for  our  chief  into  a  feast  of  Bacchus. 
Whom  choose  ye  for  master  ?" 

Drusus  arose. 

"  Who  shall  be  master  but  the  giver  of  the  feast  ?"  he 
said.  "  Answer,  Romans." 

They  gave  their  reply  in  a  shout. 

Messala  took  the  chaplet  from  his  head,  gave  it  to  Dru- 


BEX-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  255 

sus,  who  climbed  upon  the  table,  and,  in  the  view  of  all, 
solemnly  replaced  it,  making  Messala  master  of  the  night. 

"  There  came  with  me  into  the  room,"  he  said,  "  some 
friends  just  risen  from  table.  That  our  feast  may  have 
the  approval  of  sacred  custom,  bring  hither  that  one  of 
them  most  overcome  by  wine." 

A  din  of  voices  answered,  "  Here  he  is,  here  he  is  !" 

And  from  the  floor  where  he  had  fallen,  a  youth  was 
brought  forward,  so  effeminately  beautiful  he  might  have 
passed  for  the  drinking-god  himself — only  the  crown  would 
have  dropped  from  his  head,  and  the  thyrsus  from  his 
hand. 

"  Lift  him  upon  the  table,"  the  master  said. 

It  was  found  he  could  not  sit. 

"  Help  him,  Drusus,  as  the  fair  Nyone  may  yet  help 
thee." 

Drusus  took  the  inebriate  in  his  arms. 

Then  addressing  the  limp  figure,  Messala  said,  amidst 
profound  silence,  "  O  Bacchus  !  greatest  of  the  gods,  be 
thou  propitious  to-night.  And  for  myself,  and  these  thy 
votaries,  I  vow  this  chaplet" — and  from  his  head  he  raised 
it  reverently — "  I  vow  this  chaplet  to  thy  altar  in  the  Grove 
of  Daphne." 

He  bowed,  replaced  the  crown  upon  his  locks,  then 
stooped  and  uncovered  the  dice,  saying,  with  a  laugh, 
"  See,  my  Drusus,  by  the  ass  of  Silenus,  the  denarius  is 
mine  !" 

There  was  a  shout  that  set  the  floor  to  quaking,  and  the 
grim  Atlantes  to  dancing,  and  the  orgies  began. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

SHEIK  ILDERIM  was  a  man  of  too  much  importance  to  go 
about  with  a  small  establishment.  He  had  a  reputation  to 
keep  with  his  tribe,  such  as  became  a  prince  and  patriarch 
of  the  greatest  following  in  all  the  Desert  east  of  Syria  ; 
with  the  people  of  the  cities  he  had  another  reputation, 
which  was  that  of  one  of  the  richest  personages  not  a  king 
in  all  the  East ;  and,  being  rich  in  fact — in  money  as  well 


256  BEN-11UR:    A   TALE   OF  TUB  CHRIST. 

as  in  servants,  camels,  horses,  and  flocks  of  all  kinds — he 
took  pleasure  in  a  certain  state,  which,  besides  magnifying 
his  dignity  with  strangers,  contributed  to  his  personal  pride 
and  comfort.  AYherefore  the  reader  must  not  be  misled 
by  the  frequent  reference  to  his  tent  in  the  Orchard  of 
Palms.  He  had  there  really  a  respectable  doivar  ;  that  is 
to  say,  he  had  there  three  large  tents — one  for  himself, 
one  for  visitors,  one  for  his  favorite  wife  and  her  women ; 
and  six  or  eight  lesser  ones,  occupied  by  his  servants  and 
such  tribal  retainers  as  he  had  chosen  to  bring  with  him 
as  a  body-guard — strong  men  of  approved  courage,  and 
skilful  with  bow,  spear,  and  horses. 

To  be  sure,  his  property  of  whatever  kind  was  in  no 
danger  at  the  Orchard  ;  yet  as  the  habits  of  a  man  go  with 
him  to  town  not  less  than  the  country,  and  as  it  is  never 
wise  to  slip  the  bands  of  discipline,  the  interior  of  the 
dowar  was  devoted  to  his  cows,  camels,  goats,  and  such 
property  in  general  as  might  tempt  a  lion  or  a  thief. 

To  do  him  full  justice,  Ilderim  kept  well  all  the  customs 
of  his  people,  abating  none,  not  even  the  smallest ;  in  con 
sequence  his  life  at  the  Orchard  was  a  continuation  of  his 
life  in  the  Desert ;  nor  that  alone,  it  was  a  fair  reproduc 
tion  of  the  old  patriarchal  modes — the  genuine  pastoral 
life  of  primitive  Israel. 

Recurring  to  the  morning  the  caravan  arrived  at  the 
Orchard — "  Here,  plant  it  here,"  he  said,  stopping  his 
horse,  and  thrusting  a  spear  into  the  ground.  "  Door  to 
the  south ;  the  lake  before  it  thus ;  and  these,  the  chil 
dren  of  the  Desert,  to  sit  under  at  the  going-down  of  the 
sun." 

At  the  last  words  he  went  to  a  group  of  three  great 
palm-trees,  and  patted  one  of  them  as  he  would  have  patted 
his  horse's  neck,  or  the  cheek  of  the  child  of  his  love. 

"\Vlio  but  the  sheik  could  of  right  say  to  the  caravan, 
Halt !  or  of  the  tent,  Here  be  it  pitched  ?  The  spear  was 
wrested  from  the  ground,  and  over  the  wound  it  had  riven 
in  the  sod  the  base  of  the  first  pillar  of  the  tent  was  plant 
ed,  marking  the  centre  of  the  front  door.  Then  eight 
others  were  planted — in  all,  three  rows  of  pillars,  three  in 
a  row.  Then,  at  call,  the  women  and  children  came,  and 


BEX-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  257 

unfolded  the  canvas  from  its  packing  on  the  camels.  Who 
might  do  this  but  the  women  ?  Had  they  not  sheared  the 
hair  from  the  brown  goats  of  the  flock  ?  and  twisted  it 
into  thread  ?  and  woven  the  thread  into  cloth  ?  and  stitched 
the  cloth  together,  making  the  perfect  roof,  dark  brown 
in  fact,  though  in  the  distance  black  as  the  tents  of  Ke- 
dar  ?  And,  finally,  with  what  jests  and  laughter,  and  pulls 
altogether,  the  united  following  of  the  sheik  stretched  the 
canvas  from  pillar  to  pillar,  driving  the  stakes  and  fasten 
ing  the  cords  as  they  went !  And  when  the  walls  of  open 
reed  matting  were  put  in  place — the  finishing-touch  to  the 
building  after  the  style  of  the  Desert — with  what  hush  of 
anxiety  they  waited  the  good  man's  judgment !  When  he 
walked  in  and  out,  looking  at  the  house  in  connection  with 
the  sun,  the  trees,  and  the  lake,  and  said,  rubbing  his  hands 
with  might  of  heartiness,  "  Well  done  !  Make  the  dowar 
now  as  ye  well  know,  and  to-night  we  will  sweeten  the 
bread  with  arrack,  and  the  milk  with  honey,  and  at  every 
fire  there  shall  be  a  kid.  God  with  ye  !  Want  of  sweet 
water  there  shall  not  be,  for  the  lake  is  our  well ;  neither 
shall  the  bearers  of  burden  hunger,  or  the  least  of  the  flock, 
for  here  is  green  pasture  also.  God  with  you  all,  my  chil 
dren  1  Go." 

And,  shouting,  the  many  happy  went  their  ways  then 
to  pitch  their  own  habitations.  A  few  remained  to  arrange 
the  interior  for  the  sheik ;  and  of  these  the  men-servants 
hung  a  curtain  to  the  central  row  of  pillars,  making  two 
apartments  ;  the  one  on  the  right  sacred  to  Ilderim  himself, 
the  other  sacred  to  his  horses — his  jewels  of  Solomon — 
which  they  led  in,  and  with  kisses  and  love-taps  set  at  lib 
erty.  Against  the  middle  pillar  they  then  erected  the 
arms-rack,  and  filled  it  with  javelins  and  spears,  and  bows, 
arrows,  and  shields  ;  outside  of  them  hanging  the  master's 
sword,  modelled  after  the  new  moon ;  and  the  glitter  of 
its  blade  rivalled  the  glitter  of  the  jewels  bedded  in  its 
grip.  Upon  one  end  of  the  rack  they  hung  the  housings 
of  the  horses,  gay  some  of  them  as  the  livery  of  a  king's 
servant,  while  on  the  other  end  they  displayed  the  great 
man's  wearing-apparel — his  robes  woollen  and  robes  linen, 
his  tunics  and  trousers,  and  many -colored  kerchiefs  for 
17 


258  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

the  head.  Nor  did  they  give  over  tl\e  work  until  he  pro 
nounced  it  well. 

Meantime  the  women  drew  out  and  set  up  the  divan, 
more  indispensable  to  him  than  the  beard  down-flowing 
over  his  breast,  white  as  Aaron's.  They  put  a  frame  to 
gether  in  shape  of  three  sides  of  a  square,  the  opening  to 
the  door,  and  covered  it  with  cushions  and  base  curtains, 
and  the  cushions  with  a  changeable  spread  striped  brown 
and  yellow  ;  at  the  corners  they  placed  pillows  and  bolsters 
sacked  in  cloth  blue  and  crimson ;  then  around  the  divan 
they  laid  a  margin  of  carpet,  and  the  inner  space  they  car 
peted  as  well ;  and  when  the  carpet  was  carried  from  the 
opening  of  the  divan  to  the  door  of  the  tent,  their  work 
was  done ;  whereupon  they  again  waited  until  the  master 
said  it  was  good.  Nothing  remained  then  but  to  bring 
and  fill  the  jars  with  water,  and  hang  the  skin  bottles  of 
arrack  ready  for  the  hand — to-morrow  the  leben.  Nor 
might  an  Arab  see  why  Ilderim  should  not  be  both  happy 
and  generous — in  his  tent  by  the  lake  of  sweet  waters,  un 
der  the  palms  of  the  Orchard  of  Palms. 

Such  was  the  tent  at  the  door  of  which  we  left  Ben- 
Hur. 

Servants  were  already  waiting  the  master's  direction. 
One  of  them  took  off  his  sandals  ;  another  unlatched  Ben- 
Hur's  Roman  shoes ;  then  the  two  exchanged  their  dusty 
outer  garments  for  fresh  ones  of  white  linen. 

"  Enter — in  God's  name,  enter,  and  take  thy  rest,"  said 
the  host,  heartily,  in  the  dialect  of  the  Market-place  of  Je 
rusalem  ;  forthwith  he  led  the  way  to  the  divan. 

"  I  will  sit  here,"  he  said  next,  pointing ;  "  and  there  the 
stranger." 

A  woman — in  the  old  time  she  would  have  been  called 
a  handmaid — answered,  and  dexterously  piled  the  pillows 
and  bolsters  as  rests  for  the  back ;  after  which  they  sat 
upon  the  side  of  the  divan,  while  water  was  brought  fresh 
from  the  lake,  and  their  feet  bathed  and  dried  Avith  napkins. 

"  We  have  a  saying  in  the  Desert,"  Ilderirn  began,  gath 
ering  his  beard,  and  combing  it  with  his  slender  fingers, 
"  that  a  good  appetite  is  the  promise  of  a  long  life,  llast 
thou  such?" 


BEX-HUR:    A.   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  259 

"  By  that  rule,  good  sheik,  I  will  live  a  hundred  years. 
I  am  a  hungry  wolf  at  thy  door,"  Ben-Hur  replied. 

"  Well,  thou  shalt  not  be  sent  away  like  a  wolf.  I  will 
give  thee  the  best  of  the  flocks." 

Ilderim  clapped  his  hands. 

"  Seek  the  stranger  in  the  guest-tent,  and  say  I,  Ilderim, 
send  him  a  prayer  that  his  peace  may  be  as  incessant  as 
the  flowing  of  waters." 

The  man  in  waiting  bowed. 

"  Say,  also,"  Ilderim  continued,  "  that  I  have  returned 
with  another  for  breaking  of  bread ;  and,  if  Balthasar  the 
wise  careth  to  share  the  loaf,  three  may  partake  of  it,  and 
the  portion  of  the  birds  be  none  the  less." 

The  second  servant  went  away. 

"  Let  us  take  our  rest  now." 

Thereupon  Ilderim  settled  himself  upon  the  divan,  as  at 
this  day  merchants  sit  on  their  rugs  in  the  bazaars  of  Da 
mascus  ;  and  when  fairly  at  rest,  he  stopped  combing  his 
beard,  and  said,  gravely,  "  That  thou  art  my  guest,  and  hast 
drunk  my  leben,  and  art  about  to  taste  my  salt,  ought  not 
to  forbid  a  question  :  Who  art  thou  ?" 

"  Sheik  Ilderim,"  said  Ben-Hur,  calmly  enduring  his 
gaze,  "  I  pray  thee  not  to  think  me  trifling  with  thy  just 
demand  ;  but  was  there  never  a  time  in  thy  life  when  to  an 
swer  such  a  question  would  have  been  a  crime  to  thyself  ?"' 

"  By  the  splendor  of  Solomon,  yes  !"  Ilderim  answered. 
"  Betrayal  of  self  is  at  times  as  base  as  the  betrayal  of  a 
tribe." 

"  Thanks,  thanks,  good  sheik !"  Ben-Hur  exclaimed. 
"  Never  answer  became  thee  better.  Now  I  know  thou 
dost  but  seek  assurance  to  justify  the  trust  I  have  come  to 
ask,  and  that  such  assurance  is  of  more  interest  to  thee 
than  the  affairs  of  my  poor  life." 

The  sheik  in  his  turn  bowed,  and  Ben-Hur  hastened  to 
pursue  his  advantage. 

"  So  it  please  thee  then,"  he  said,  "  first,  I  am  not  a 
Roman,  as  the  name  given  thee  as  mine  implieth." 

Ilderim  clasped  the  beard  overflowing  his  breast,  and 
gazed  at  the  speaker  with  eyes  faintly  twinkling  through 
the  shade  of  the  heavy,  close-drawn  brows. 


260  BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  In  the  next  place,"  Bcn-IIur  continued,  "  I  am  an  Is 
raelite  of  the  tribe  of  Judah." 

The  sheik  raised  his  brows  a  little. 

"  Nor  that  merely.  Sheik,  I  am  a  Jew  with  a  griev 
ance  against  Rome  compared  with  which  thine  is  not  more 
than  a  child's  trouble." 

The  old  man  combed  his  beard  with  nervous  haste,  and 
let  fall  his  brows  until  even  the  twinkle  of  the  eyes  went  out. 

"  Still  further  :  I  swear  to  thee,  Sheik  Ilderim — I  swear 
by  the  covenant  the  Lord  made  with  my  fathers — so  thou 
but  give  me  the  revenge  I  seek,  the  money  and  the  glory 
of  the  race  shall  be  thine." 

Ilderim's  brows  relaxed  ;  his  head  arose  ;  his  face  began 
to  beam  ;  and  it  was  almost  possible  to  sec  the  satisfaction 
taking  possession  of  him. 

"  Enough  !"  he  said.  "  If  at  the  roots  of  thy  tongue 
there  is  a  lie  in  coil,  Solomon  himself  had  not  been  safe 
against  thee.  That  thou  art  not  a  Roman — that  as  a  Jew 
thou  hast  a  grievance  against  Rome,  and  revenge  to  com 
pass,  I  believe  ;  and  on  that  score  enough.  But  as  to  thy 
skill.  What  experience  hast  thou  in  racing  with  chariots  ? 
And  the  horses — canst  thou  make  them  creatures  of  thy 
will  ? — to  know  thee  ?  to  come  at  call  ?  to  go,  if  thou  say- 
est  it,  to  the  last  extreme  of  breath  and  strength  ?  and  then, 
in  the  perishing  moment,  out  of  the  depths  of  thy  life  thrill 
them  to  one  exertion  the  mightiest  of  all  ?  The  gift,  my 
son,  is  not  to  every  one.  Ah,  by  the  splendor  of  God  !  I 
knew  a  king  who  governed  millions  of  men,  their  perfect 
master,  but  could  not  win  the  respect  of  a  horse.  Mark  ! 
I  speak  not  of  the  dull  brutes  whose  round  it  is  to  slave 
for  slaves — the  debased  in  blood  and  image — the  dead  in 
spirit ;  but  of  such  as  mine  here — the  kings  of  their  kind  ; 
of  a  lineage  reaching  back  to  the  broods  of  the  first  Pha 
raoh  ;  my  comrades  and  friends,  dwellers  in  tents,  whom 
long  association  with  me  has  brought  up  to  my  plane  ;  who 
to  their  instincts  have  added  our  wits  and  to  their  senses 
joined  our  souls,  until  they  feel  all  we  know  of  ambition, 
love,  hate,  and  contempt ;  in  war,  heroes  ;  in  trust,  faithful 
as  women.  Ho,  there  !" 

A  servant  came  forward. 


BEN-HUB:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  261 

"  Let  my  Arabs  come  !" 

The  man  drew  aside  part  of  the  division  cnrtain  of  the 
tent,  exposing  to  view  a  group  of  horses,  which  lingered  a 
moment  where  they  were  as  if  to  make  certain  of  the  in 
vitation. 

"  Come  !"  Ilderim  said  to  them.  "  Why  stand  ye  there  ? 
What  have  I  that  is  not  yours  ?  Come,  I  say  !" 

They  stalked  slowly  in. 

"  Son  of  Israel,"  the  master  said,  "  thy  Moses  was  a 
mighty  man,  but — ha,  ha,  ha ! — I  must  laugh  when  I  think 
of  his  allowing  thy  fathers  the  plodding  ox  and  the  dull, 
slow-natured  ass,  and  forbidding  them  property  in  horses. 
Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Thinkest  thou  he  would  have  done  so  had  he 
seen  that  one — and  that — and  this  ?"  At  the  word  he  laid 
his  hand  upon  the  face  of  the  first  to  reach  him,  and  pat 
ted  it  with  infinite  pride  and  tenderness. 

"  It  is  a  misjudgment,  sheik,  a  misjudgment,"  Ben-IIur 
said,  warmly.  "  Moses  was  a  warrior  as  well  as  a  lawgiver 
beloved  by  God ;  and  to  follow  war — ah,  what  is  it  but  to 
love  all  its  creatures — these  among  the  rest  ?" 

A  head  of  exquisite  turn — with  large  eyes,  soft  as  a 
deer's,  and  half  hidden  by  the  dense  forelock,  and  small 
ears,  sharp-pointed  and  sloped  well  forward — approached 
then  quite  to  his  breast,  the  nostrils  open,  and  the  upper 
lip  in  motion.  "Who  are  you  ?"  it  asked,  plainly  as  ever 
man  spoke.  Ben-Hur  recognized  one  of  the  four  racers 
he  had  seen  on  the  course,  and  gave  his  open  hand  to  the 
beautiful  brute. 

"  They  will  tell  you,  the  blasphemers  ! — may  their  days 
shorten  as  they  grow  fewer !" — the  sheik  spoke  with  the 
feeling  of  a  man  repelling  a  personal  defamation — "  they 
will  tell  you,  I  say,  that  our  horses  of  the  best  blood  are  de 
rived  from  the  Nessean  pastures  of  Persia.  God  gave  the 
first  Arab  a  measureless  waste  of  sand,  with  some  treeless 
mountains,  and  here  and  there  a  well  of  bitter  waters  ;  and 
said  to  him, '  Behold  thy  country  !' "  And  when  the  poor 
man  complained,  the  Mighty  One  pitied  him,  and  said 
again, '  Be  of  cheer  !  for  I  will  twice  bless  thee  above  other 
men.'  The  Arab  heard,  and  gave  thanks,  and  with  faith 
set  ou*  +Q  find  the  blessings.  He  travelled  all  the  bound- 


262  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

aries  first,  and  failed  ;  then  he  made  a  path  into  the  desert, 
and  went  on  and  on — and  in  the  heart  of  the  waste  there 
was  an  island  of  green  very  beautiful  to  see  ;  and  in  the 
heart  of  the  island,  lo !  a  herd  of  camels,  and  another  of 
horses !  He  took  them  joyfully  and  kept  them  with  care 
for  what  they  were — best  gifts  of  God.  And  from  that 
green  isle  went  forth  all  the  horses  of  the  earth ;  even  to 
the  pastures  of  Nessea  they  went ;  and  northward  to  the 
dreadful  vales  perpetually  threshed  by  blasts  from  the  Sea 
of  Chill  Winds.  Doubt  not  the  story ;  or  if  thou  dost, 
may  never  amulet  have  charm  for  an  Arab  again.  Nay,  I 
will  give  thee  proof." 

He  clapped  his  hands. 

"  Bring  me  the  records  of  the  tribe,"  he  said  to  the  ser 
vant  who  responded. 

While  waiting,  the  sheik  played  with  the  horses,  patting 
their  cheeks,  combing  their  forelocks  with  his  fingers,  giv 
ing  each  one  a  token  of  remembrance.  Presently  six  men 
appeared  with  chests  of  cedar  reinforced  by  bands  of  brass, 
and  hinged  and  bolted  with  brass. 

"  Nay,"  said  Ilderim,  when  they  were  all  set  down  by 
the  divan,  "  I  meant  not  all  of  them ;  only  the  records  of 
the  horses — that  one.  Open  it  and  take  back  the  others." 

The  chest  was  opened,  disclosing  a  mass  of  ivory  tab 
lets  strung  on  rings  of  silver  wire ;  and  as  the  tablets  were 
scarcely  thicker  than  wafers,  each  ring  held  several  hun 
dreds  of  them. 

"  I  know,"  said  Ilderim,  taking  some  of  the  rings  in  his 
hand — "I  know  with  what  care  and  zeal,  my  son,  the 
scribes  of  the  Temple  in  the  Holy  City  keep  the  names  of 
the  newly  born,  that  every  son  of  Israel  may  trace  his  line 
of  ancestry  to  its  beginning,  though  it  antedate  the  patri 
archs.  My  fathers — may  the  recollection  of  them  be  green 
forever ! — did  not  think  it  sinful  to  borrow  the  idea,  and 
apply  it  to  their  dumb  servants.  See  these  tablets !" 

Ben-Hur  took  the  rings,  and  separating  the  tablets  saw 
they  bore  rude  hieroglyphs  in  Arabic,  burned  on  the  smooth 
surface  by  a  sharp  point  of  heated  metal. 

"  Canst  thou  read  them,  O  son  of  Israel  ?" 

"  No.     Thou  must  tell  me  their  meaning." 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  263 

"  Know  tliou,  then,  each  tablet  records  the  name  of  a 
foal  of  the  pure  blood  born  to  my  fathers  through  the  hun 
dreds  of  years  passed ;  and  also  the  names  of  sire  and 
dam.  Take  them,  and  note  their  age,  that  thou  mayst  the 
more  readily  believe." 

Some  of  the  tablets  were  nearly  worn  away.  All  were 
yellow  with  age. 

"  In  the  chest  there,  I  can  tell  thee  now,  I  have  the  per 
fect  history  ;  perfect  because  certified  as  history  seldom  is 
— showing  of  what  stock  all  these  are  sprung — this  one, 
and  that  now  supplicating  thy  notice  and  caress ;  and  as 
they  come  to  us  here,  their  sires,  even  the  furthest  re 
moved  in  time,  came  to  my  sires,  under  a  tent-roof  like  this 
of  mine,  to  eat  their  measure  of  barley  from  the  open  hand, 
and  be  talked  to  as  children ;  and  as  children  kiss  the 
thanks  they  have  not  speech  to  express.  And  now,  O  son 
of  Israel,  thou  mayst  believe  my  declaration — if  I  am  a 
lord  of  the  Desert,  behold  my  ministers  !  Take  them  from 
me,  and  I  become  as  a  sick  man  left  by  the  caravan  to  die. 
Thanks  to  them,  age  hath  not  diminished  the  terror  of  me 
on  the  highways  between  cities ;  and  it  will  not  while  I 
have  strength  to  go  with  them.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  I  could  tell 
thee  marvels  done  by  their  ancestors.  In  a  favoring  time 
I  may  do  so  ;  for  the  present,  enough  that  they  were  never 
overtaken  in  retreat ;  nor,  by  the  sword  of  Solomon,  did 
they  ever  fail  in  pursuit !  That,  mark  you,  on  the  sands 
and  under  saddle  ;  but  now — I  do  not  know — I  am  afraid, 
for  they  are  under  yoke  the  first  time,  and  the  conditions 
of  success  are  so  many.  They  have  the  pride  and  the 
speed  and  the  endurance.  If  I  find  them  a  master,  they 
will  win.  Son  of  Israel !  so  thou  art  the  man,  I  swear  it 
shall  be  a  happy  day  that  brought  thee  thither.  Of  thy 
self  now  speak." 

"  I  know  now,"  said  Ben-Hur,  "  why  it  is  that  in  the 
love  of  an  Arab  his  horse  is  next  to  his  children ;  and  I 
know,  also,  .why  the  Arab  horses  are  the  best  in  the  world  ; 
but,  good  sheik,  I  would  not  have  you  judge  me  by  words 
alone ;  for,  as  you  know,  all  promises  of  men  sometimes 
fail.  Give  me  the  trial  first  on  some  plain  hereabout,  and 
put  the  four  in  my  hand  to-morrow." 


264  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

Ilderim's  face  beamed  again,  and  he  would  have  spoken. 

"  A  moment,  good  sheik,  a  moment !"  said  Ben-IIur. 
"  Let  me  say  further.  From  the  masters  in  Rome  I  learned 
many  lessons,  little  thinking  they  would  serve  me  in  a  time 
like  this.  I  tell  thee  these  thy  sons  of  the  Desert,  though 
they  have  separately  the  speed  of  eagles  and  the  endurance 
of  lions,  will  fail  if  they  are  not  trained  to  run  together 
under  the  yoke.  For  bethink  thee,  sheik,  in  every  four 
there  is  one  the  slowest  and  one  the  swiftest ;  and  while 
the  race  is  always  to  the  slowest,  the  trouble  is  always  with 
the  swiftest.  It  was  so  to-day ;  the  driver  could  not  reduce 
the  best  to  harmonious  action  with  the  poorest.  My  trial 
may  have  no  better  result ;  but  if  so,  I  will  tell  thee  of  it : 
that  I  swear.  AYherefore,  in  the  same  spirit  I  say,  can  I 
get  them  to  run  together,  moved  by  my  will,  the  four  as 
one,  thou  shalt  have  the  sestertii  and  the  crown,  and  I  my 
revenge.  What  sayest  thou  ?" 

Ilderim  listened,  combing  his  beard  the  while.  At  the 
end  he  said,  with  a  laugh,  "  I  think  better  of  thee,  son  of 
Israel.  AVe  have  a  saying  in  the  Desert,  '  If  you  will  cook 
the  meal  with  words,  I  will  promise  an  ocean  of  butter.' 
Thou  shalt  have  the  horses  in  the  morning." 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  stir  at  the  rear  entrance  to 
the  tent. 

"The  supper — it  is  here!  and  yonder  my  friend  Bal- 
thasar,  whom  thou  shalt  know.  lie  hath  a  story  to  tell 
which  an  Israelite  should  never  tire  of  hearing." 

And  to  the  servants  he  added, 

"  Take  the  records  away,  and  return  my  jewels  to  then 
apartment." 

And  they  did  as  he  ordered. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

IF  the  reader  will  return  now  to  the  repast  of  the  wise 
men  at  their  meeting  in  the  desert,  he  will  understand  the 
preparations  for  the  supper  in  Ilderim's  tent.  The  differ 
ences  were  chiefly  such  as  were  incident  to  ampler  means 
and  better  service. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  265 

Three  rugs  were  spread  on  the  carpet  within  the  space 
so  nearly  enclosed  by  the  divan ;  a  table  not  more  than  a 
foot  in  height  was  brought  and  set  within  the  same  place, 
and  covered  with  a  cloth.  Off  to  one  side  a  portable  earth 
enware  oven  was  established  under  the  presidency  of  a 
woman  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep  the  company  in  bread, 
or,  more  precisely,  in  hot  cakes  of  flour  from  the  handmills 
grinding  with  constant  sound  in  a  neighboring  tent. 

Meanwhile  Balthasar  was  conducted  to  the  divan,  where 
Ilderim  and  Ben-Hur  received  him  standing.  A  loose  black 
gown  covered  his  person ;  his  step  was  feeble,  and  his  whole 
movement  slow  and  cautious,  apparently  dependent  upon  a 
long  staff  and  the  arm  of  a  servant. 

"  Peace  to  you,  my  friend,"  said  Ilderim,  respectfully. 
"  Peace  and  welcome." 

The  Egyptian  raised  his  head  and  replied,  "And  to  thee, 
good  sheik — to  thee  and  thine,  peace  and  the  blessing  of 
the  One  God — God  the  true  and  loving." 

The  manner  was  gentle  and  devout,  and  impressed  Ben- 
Hur  with  a  feeling  of  awe  ;  besides  which  the  blessing  in 
cluded  in  the  answering  salutation  had  been  partly  ad 
dressed  to  him,  and  while  that  part  was  being  spoken,  the 
eyes  of  the  aged  guest,  hollow  yet  luminous,  rested  upon 
his  face  long  enough  to  stir  an  emotion  new  and  mysterious, 
and  so  strong  that  he  again  and  again  during  the  repast 
scanned  the  much-wrinkled  and  bloodless  face  for  its  mean 
ing  ;  but  always  there  was  the  expression  bland,  placid, 
and  trustful  as  a  child's.  A  little  later  he  found  that  ex 
pression  habitual. 

"  This  is  he,  0  Balthasar,"  said  the  sheik,  laying  his 
hand  on  Ben-IIur's  arm,  "  who  will  break  bread  with  us 
this  evening." 

The  Egyptian  glanced  at  the  young  man,  and  looked 
again  surprised  and  doubting  ;  seeing  which  the  sheik  con 
tinued,  "  I  have  promised  him  my  horses  for  trial  to 
morrow  ;  and  if  all  goes  well,  he  will  drive  them  in  the 
Circus." 

Balthasar  continued  his  gaze. 

"  lie  came  well  recommended,"  Ilderim  pursued,  much 
puzzled.  "  You  may  know  him  as  the  son  of  Arrius,  who 


266  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

was  a  noble  Roman  sailor,  though" — the  sheik  hesitated, 
then  resumed,  with  a  laugh — "  though  he  declares  himself 
an  Israelite  of  the  tribe  of  Judah  ;  and,  by  the  splendor  of 
God,  I  believe  that  he  tells  me  !" 

Balthasar  could  no  longer  withhold  explanation. 

"  To-day,  O  most  generous  sheik,  my  life  was  in  peril, 
and  would  have  been  lost  had  not  a  youth,  the  counterpart 
of  this  one — if,  indeed,  he  be  not  the  very  same — inter 
vened  when  all  others  fled,  and  saved  me."  Then  he  ad 
dressed  Ben-llur  directly,  "  Art  thou  not  he  ?" 

"  I  cannot  answer  so  far,"  Ben-IIur  replied,  with  modest 
deference.  "  I  am  he  who  stopped  the  horses  of  the  inso 
lent  Roman  when  they  were  rushing  upon  thy  camel  at  the 
Fountain  of  Castalia.  Thy  daughter  left  a  cup  with  me." 

From  the  bosom  of  his  tunic  he  produced  the  cup,  and 
gave  it  to  Balthasar. 

A  glow  lighted  the  faded  countenance  of  the  Egyptian. 

"  The  Lord  sent  thee  to  me  at  the  Fountain  to-day,"  he 
said,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  stretching  his  hand  towards  Ben- 
Hur ;  "  and  he  sends  thee  to  me  now.  I  give  him  thanks  ; 
and  praise  him  thou,  for  of  his  favor  I  have  wherewith  to 
give  thee  great  reward,  and  I  will.  The  cup  is  thine ; 
keep  it." 

Ben-Hur  took  back  the  gift,  and  Balthasar,  seeing  the 
inquiry  upon  Ilderim's  face,  related  the  occurrence  at  the 
Fountain. 

"What!"  said  the  sheik  to  Ben-Hur.  "Thou  saidst 
nothing  of  this  to  me,  when  better  recommendation  thou 
couldst  not  have  brought.  Am  I  not  an  Arab,  and  sheik 
of  my  tribe  of  tens  of  thousands?  And  is  not  he  my 
guest  ?  And  is  it  not  in  my  guest-bond  that  the  good  or 
evil  thou  dost  him  is  good  or  evil  done  to  me  ?  AVhither 
shouldst  thou  go  for  reward  but  here  ?  And  whose  the 
hand  to  give  it  but  mine  ?" 

His  voice  at  the  end  of  the  speech  rose  to  cutting  shrill 
ness. 

"  Good  sheik,  spare  me,  I  pray.     I  came  not  for  reward, 

freat  or  small ;  and  that  I  may  be  acquitted  of  the  thought, 
say  the  help  I  gave  this  excellent  man  would  have  been 
given  as  well  to  thy  humblest  servant." 


BEN-HUB:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  267 

"But  he  is  my  friend,  my  guest — not  my  servant;  an-.l 
seest  thou  not  in  the  difference  the  favor  of  Fortune  ?" 
Then  to  Balthasar  the  sheik  subjoined,  "  Ah,  by  the  splen 
dor  of  God !  I  tell  thee  again  he  is  not  a  Roman." 

With  that  he  turned  away,  and  gave  attention  to  the  ser 
vants,  whose  preparations  for  the  supper  were  about  com 
plete. 

The  reader  who  recollects  the  history  of  Balthasar  as 
given  by  himself  at  the  meeting  in  the  desert  will  under 
stand  the  effect  of  Ben-IIur's  assertion  of  disinterestedness 
upon  that  worthy.  In  his  devotion  to  men  there  had  been, 
it  will  be  remembered,  no  distinctions ;  while  the  redemp 
tion  which  had  been  promised  him  in  the  way  of  reward 
— the  redemption  for  which  he  was  waiting — was  univer 
sal.  To  him,  therefore,  the  assertion  sounded  somewhat 
like  an  echo  of  himself.  He  took  a  step  nearer  Ben-Hur, 
and  spoke  to  him  in  the  childlike  way. 

"  How  did  the  sheik  say  I  should  call  you  ?  It  was  a 
Roman  name,  I  think." 

"  Arrius,  the  son  of  Arrius." 

"  Yet  thou  art  not  a  Roman  ?" 

"  All  my  people  were  Jews." 

"  AVere,  saidst  thou  ?     Are  they  not  living  ?" 

The  question  was  subtle  as  well  as  simple ;  but  Ilderim 
saved  Beri-Hur  from  reply. 

"  Come,"  he  said  to  them,  "  the  meal  is  ready." 

Ben-Hur  gave  his  arm  to  Balthasar,  and  conducted  him 
to  the  table,  where  shortly  they  were  all  seated  on  their 
rugs  Eastern  fashion.  The  lavers  were  brought  them,  and 
they  washed  and  dried  their  hands ;  then  the  sheik  made 
a  sign,  the  servants  stopped,  and  the  voice  of  the  Egyptian 
arose  tremulous  with  holy  feeling. 

"  Father  of  All — God !  What  we  have  is  of  thee ;  take 
our  thanks,  and  bless  us,  that  we  may  continue  to  do  thy 
will." 

It  was  the  grace  the  good  man  had  said  simultaneously 
with  his  brethen  Gaspar  the  Greek  and  Melchior  the  Hin 
doo,  the  utterance  in  diverse  tongues  out  of  which  had 
come  the  miracle  attesting  the  Divine  Presence  at  the  meal 
in  the  desert  years  before. 


268  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

The  table  to  which  they  immediately  addressed  them 
selves  was,  as  may  be  thought,  rich  in  the  substantial  and 
delicacies  favorite  in  the  East — in  cakes  hot  from  the  oven, 
vegetables  from  the  gardens,  meats  singly,  compounds  of 
meats  and  vegetables,  milk  of  kine,  and  honey  and  butter 
— all  eaten  or  drunk,  it  should  be  remarked,  without  any 
of  the  modern  accessories — knives,  forks,  spoons,  cups,  or 
plates ;  and  in  this  part  of  the  repast  but  little  was  said, 
for  they  were  hungry.  But  when  the  desert  was  in  course 
it  was  otherwise.  They  laved  their  hands  again,  had  the 
lap-cloths  shaken  out,  and  with  a  renewed  table  and  the 
sharp  edge  of  their  appetites  gone  they  were  disposed  to 
talk  and  listen. 

With  such  a  company — an  Arab,  a  Jew,  and  an  Egyp 
tian,  all  believers  alike  in  one  God — there  could  be  at  that 
age  but  one  subject  of  conversation ;  and  of  the  three, 
which  should  be  speaker  but  he  to  whom  the  Deity  had 
been  so  nearly  a  personal  appearance,  who  had  seen  him  in 
a  star,  had  heard  his  voice  in  direction,  had  been  led  so  far 
and  so  miraculously  by  his  Spirit  ?  And  of  what  should 
he  talk  but  that  of  which  he  had  been  called  to  testify  ? 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  shadows  cast  over  the  Orchard  of  Palms  by  the 
mountains  at  set  of  sun  left  no  sweet  margin  time  of  violet 
sky  and  drowsing  earth  between  the  day  and  night.  The 
latter  came  early  and  swift ;  and  against  its  glooming  in 
the  tent  this  evening  the  servants  brought  four  candlesticks 
of  brass,  and  set  them  by  the  corners  of  the  table.  To  each 
candlestick  there  were  four  branches,  and  on  each  branch 
a  lighted  silver  lamp  and  a  supply  cup  of  olive-oil.  In 
light  ample,  even  brilliant,  the  group  at  dessert  continued 
their  conversation,  speaking  in  the  Syriac  dialect,  familiar 
to  all  peoples  in  that  part  of  the  world. 

The  Egyptian  told  his  story  of  the  meeting  of  the  three 
in  the  desert,  and  agreed  with  the  sheik  that  it  was  in 
December,  twenty-seven  years  before,  when  he  and  his 
companions,  fleeing  from  Herod,  arrived  at  the  tent  pray- 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  269 

ing  shelter.  The  narrative  was  heard  with  intense  interest ; 
even  the  servants  lingering  when  they  could  to  catch  its 
details.  Ben-Hur  received  it  as  became  a  man  listening  to 
a  revelation  of  deep  concern  to  all  humanity,  and  to  none 
of  more  concern  than  the  people  of  Israel.  In  his  mind, 
as  we  shall  presently  see,  there  was  crystallizing  an  idea 
which  was  to  change  his  course  of  life,  if  not  absorb  it  ab 
solutely. 

As  the  recital  proceeded,  the  impression  made  by  Bal- 
thasar  upon  the  young  Jew  increased  ;  at  its  conclusion,  his 
feeling  was  too  profound  to  permit  a  doubt  of  its  truth ; 
indeed,  there  was  nothing  left  him  desirable  in  the  con 
nection  but  assurances,  if  such  were  to  be  had,  pertaining 
exclusively  to  the  consequences  of  the  amazing  event. 

And  now  there  is  wanting  an  explanation  which  the 
very  discerning  may  have  heretofore  demanded  ;  certainly 
it  can  be  no  longer  delayed.  Our  tale  begins,  in  point  of 
date  not  less  than  fact,  to  trench  close  upon  the  opening 
of  the  ministry  of  the  Son  of  Mary,  whom  we  have  seen 
but  once  since  this  same  Balthasar  left  him  worshipfully  in 
his  mother's  lap  in  the  cave  by  Bethlehem.  Henceforth 
•to  the  end  the  mysterious  Child  will  be  a  subject  of  con 
tinual  reference ;  and  slowly  though  surely  the  current  of 
events. with  which  we  are  dealing  will  bring  us  nearer  and 
nearer  to  him,  until  finally  we  see  him  a  man — we  would 
like,  if  armed  contrariety  of  opinion  would  permit  it,  to 

add A    MAN    WHOM    THE   WORLD    COULD    NOT    DO   WITHOUT. 

Of  this  declaration,  apparently  so  simple,  a  shrewd  mind 
inspired  by  faith  will  make  much — and  in  welcome.  Be 
fore  his  time,  and  since,  there  have  been  men  indispensable 
to  particular  people  and  periods ;  but  his  indispejisability 
was  to  the  whole  race,  and  for  all  time — a  respect  in  which 
it  is  unique,  solitary,  divine^ 

To  Sheik  Ilderim  the  story  was  not  new.  He  had  heard 
it  from  the  three  wise  men  together  under  circumstances 
which  left  no  room  for  doubt ;  he  had  acted  upon  it  seri 
ously,  for  the  helping  a  fugitive  escape  from  the  anger  of 
the  first  Herod  was  dangerous.  Now  one  of  the  three  sat 
at  his  table  again,  a  welcome  guest  and  revered  friend. 
Sheik  Ilderim  certainly  believed  the  story ;  yet,  in  the  nat- 


270  BEX-IIUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ure  of  things,  its  mighty  central  fact  could  not  come  home 
to  him  with  the  force  and  absorbing  effect  it  came  to  Ben- 
Hur.  He  was  an  Arab,  whose  interest  in  the  consequences 
was  but  general ;  on  the  other  hand,  Ben-IIur  was  an  Isra 
elite  and  a  Jew,  with  more  than  a  special  interest  in — if 
the  solecism  can  be  pardoned — the  truth  of  the  fact.  He 
laid  hold  of  the  circumstance  with  a  purely  Jewish  mind. 

From  his  cradle,  let  it  be  remembered,  he  had  heard  of 
the  Messiah ;  at  the  colleges  he  had  been  made  familiar 
with  all  that  was  known  of  that  Being  at  once  the  hope, 
the  fear,  and  the  peculiar  glory  of  the  chosen  people ;  the 
prophets  from  the  first  to  the  last  of  the  heroic  line  fore 
told  him  ;  and  the  coming  had  been,  and  yet  was,  the  theme 
of  endless  exposition  with  the  rabbis — in  the  synagogues, 
in  the  schools,  in  the  Temple,  of  fast-days  and  feast-days, 
in  public  and  in  private,  the  national  teachers  expounded 
and  kept  expounding  until  all  the  children  of  Abraham, 
wherever  their  lots  were  cast,  bore  the  Messiah  in  expecta 
tion,  and  by  it  literally,  and  with  iron  severity,  ruled  and 
moulded  their  lives. 

Doubtless,  it  will  be  understood  from  this  that  there 
was  much  argument  among  the  Jews  themselves  about  the 
Messiah,  and  so  there  was ;  but  the  disputation  was  all  lim 
ited  to  one  point,  and  one  only — when  would  he  come  ? 

Disquisition  is  for  the  preacher ;  whereas  the  writer  is 
but  telling  a  tale,  und  that  he  may  not  lose  his  character, 
the  explanation  he  is  making  requires  notice  merely  of  a 
point  connected  with  the  Messiah  about  which  the  unanim 
ity  among  the  chosen  people  was  matter  of  marvellous 
astonishment ;  he  was  to  be,  when  come,  the  KING  OF  THE 
JEWS — their  political  King,  their  Caesar.  By  their  instru 
mentality  he  was  to  make  armed  conquest  of  the  earth,  and 
then,  for  their  profit  and  in  the  name  of  God,  hold  it  down 
forever.  On  this  faith,  dear  reader,  the  Pharisees  or  Sepa 
ratists — the  latter  being  rather  a  political  term — in  the  clois 
ters  and  around  the  altars  of  the  Temple,  built  an  edifice  of 
hope  far  overtopping  the  dream  of  the  Macedonian.  His 
but  covered  the  earth ;  theirs  covered  the  earth  and  filled 
the  skies ;  that  is  to  say,  in  their  bold,  boundless  fantasy 
of  blasphemous  egotism,  God  the  Almighty  was  in  effect  to 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  271 

suffer  them  for  their  uses  to  nail  him  by  the  car  to  a  door 
in  sign  of  eternal  servitude. 

Returning  directly  to  Ben-Hur,  it  is  to  be  observed  now 
that  there  were  two  circumstances  in  his  life  the  result  of 
which  had  been  to  keep  him  in  a  state  comparatively  free 
from  the  influence  and  hard  effects  of  the  audacious  faith 
of  his  Separatist  countrymen. 

In  the  first  place,  his  father  followed  the  faith  of  the 
Sadducees,  who  may,  in  a  general  way,  be  termed  the 
Liberals  of  their  time.  They  had  some  loose  opinions  in 
denial  of  the  soul.  They  were  strict  constrtictionists  and 
rigorous  observers  of  the  Law  as  found  in  the  books  of 
Moses ;  but  they  held  the  vast  mass  of  Rabbinical  addenda 
to  those  books  in  derisive  contempt.  They  were  unques 
tionably  a  sect,  yet  their  religion  was  more  a  philosophy 
than  a  creed  ;  they  did  not  deny  themselves  the  enjoyments 
of  life,  and  saw  many  admirable  methods  and  productions 
among  the  Gentile  divisions  of  the  race.  In  politics  they 
were  the  active  opposition  of  the  Separatists.  In  the  nat 
ural  order  of  things,  these  circumstances  and  conditions, 
opinions  and  peculiarities,  would  have  descended  to  the 
son  as  certainly  and  really  as  any  portion  of  his  father's 
estate ;  and,  as  we  have  seen,  he  was  actually  in  course  of 
acquiring  them  when  the  second  saving  event  overtook 
him. 

L'pon  a  youth  of  Ben-Hur's  mind  and  temperament  the 
influence  of  five  years  of  affluent  life  in  Rome  can  be  ap 
preciated  best  by  recalling  that  the  great  city  was  then,  in 
fact,  the  meeting-place  of  the  nations — their  meeting-place 
politically  and  commercially,  as  well  as  for  the  indulgence 
of  pleasure  without  restraint.  Round  and  round  the  golden 
mile-stone  in  front  of  the  Forum — now  in  gloom  of  eclipse, 
now  in  unapproachable  splendor — flowed  all  the  active  cur 
rents  of  humanity.  If  excellences  of  manner,  refinements 
of  society,  attainments  of  intellect,  and  glory  of  achieve 
ment  made  no  impression  upon  him,  how  could  he,  as  the 
son  of  Arrius,  pass  day  after  day,  through  a  period  so  long, 
from  the  beautiful  villa  near  Misenum  into  the  receptions 
of  Caesar,  and  be  wholly  uninfluenced  by  what  he  saw  there 
of  kings,  princes,  ambassadors,  hostages,  and  delegates,  suit- 


272  BEN-HTJR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ors  all  of  them  from  every  known  land,  waiting  humbly 
the  yes  or  no  which  was  to  make  or  unmake  them  ?  As 
mere  assemblages,  to  be  sure,  there  was  nothing  to  compare 
with  the  gatherings  at  Jerusalem  in  celebration  of  the  Pass 
over  ;  yet  when  he  sat  under  the  purple  velaria  of  the  Cir 
cus  Maximus  one  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  spec 
tators,  he  must  have  been  visited  by  the  thought  that  pos 
sibly  there  might  be  some  branches  of  the  family  of  man 
worthy  divine  consideration,  if  not  mercy,  though  they 
were  of  the  uncircumcised — some,  by  their  sorrows,  and, 
yet  worse,  by  their  hopelessness  in  the  midst  of  sorrows, 
fitted  for  brotherhood  in  the  promises  to  his  countrymen. 
That  he  should  have  had  such  a  thought  under  such  cir 
cumstances  was  but  natural ;  we  think  so  much,  at  least, 
will  be  admitted :  but  when  the  reflection  came  to  him, 
and  he  gave  himself  up  to  it,  he  could  not  have  been  blind 
to  a  certain  distinction.  The  wretchedness  of  the  masses, 
and  their  hopeless  condition,  had  no  relation  whatever  to 
religion  ;  their  murmurs  and  groans  were  not  against  their 
gods  or  for  want  of  gods.  In  the  oak-woods  of  Britain  the 
Druids  held  their  followers ;  Odin  and  Freya  maintained 
their  godships  in  Gaul  and  Germany  and  among  the  Hyper 
boreans  ;  Egypt  was  satisfied  with  her  crocodiles  and  Anu- 
bis ;  the  Persians  were  yet  devoted  to  Ormuzd  and  Ahri- 
man,  holding  them  in  equal  honor  ;  in  hope  of  the  Nirvana, 
the  Hindoos  moved  on  patient  as  ever  in  the  rayless  paths 
of  Brahm ;  the  beautiful  Greek  mind,  in  pauses  of  philos 
ophy,  still  sang  the  heroic  gods  of  Homer ;  while  in  Rome 
nothing  was  so  common  and  cheap  as  gods.  According  to 
whim,  the  masters  of  the  world,  because  they  were  masters, 
carried  their  worship  and  offerings  indifferently  from  altar 
to  altar,  delighted  in  the  pandemonium  they  had  erected. 
Their  discontent,  if  they  were  discontented,  was  with  the 
number  of  gods ;  for,  after  borrowing  all  the  divinities  of 
the  earth  they  proceeded  to  deify  their  Caesars,  and  vote 
them  altars  and  holy  service.  No,  the  unhappy  condition 
was  not  from  religion,  but  misgovernment  and  usurpations 
and  countless  tyrannies.  The  Avernus  men  had  been  tum 
bled  into,  and  were  praying  to  be  relieved  from,  was  terri 
bly  but  essentially  political.  The  supplication — everywhere 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  273 

alike,  in  Lodinum,  Alexandria,  Athens,  Jerusalem — was  for 
a  king  to  conquer  with,  not  a  god  to  worship. 

Studying  the  situation  after  two  thousand  years,  AVC  can 
see  and  say  that  religjx3us^ly_  there^jwas i__no_relief  from  the 
universal  confusion  except  some  (Jod  could  prove  him 
self  a  true  God,  and  a  masterful  one,  and  come  to  the 
rescu cj  but  the  people  of  the  time,  even  the  discerning 
and  philosophical,  discovered  no  hope  except  in  crushing 
Koine ;  that  done,  the  relief  would  follow  in  restorations 
and  reorganizations ;  therefore  they  prayed,  conspired,  re 
belled,  fought,  and  died,  drenching  the  soil  to-day  with 
blood,  to-morrow  with  tears — and  always  with  the  same 
result. 

It  remains  to  be  said  now  that  Ben-IIur  was  in  agree 
ment  with  the  mass  of  men  of  his  time  not  Romans.  The 
five  years'  residence  in  the  capital  served  him  with  oppor 
tunity  to  see  and  study  the  miseries  of  the  subjugated 
world ;  and  in  full  belief  that  the  evils  which  afflicted  it 
were  political,  and  to  be  cured  only  by  the  sword,  he  was 
going  forth  to  fit  himself  for  a  part  in  the  day  of  resort  to 
the  heroic  remedy.  By  practice  of  arms  he  was  a  perfect 
soldier ;  but  war  has  its  higher  fields,  and  he  who  would 
move  successfully  in  them  must  know  more  than  to  defend 
with  shield  and  thrust  with  spear.  In  those  fields  the  gen 
eral  finds  his  tasks,  the  greatest  of  which  is  the  reduction 
of  the  many  into  one,  and  that  one  himself ;  the  consum 
mate  captain  is  a  fighting-man  armed  with  an  army.  This 
conception  entered  into  the  scheme  of  life  to  which  he  was 
further  swayed  by  the  reflection  that  the  vengeance  he 
dreamed  of,  in  connection  with  his  individual  wrongs, 
would  be  more  surely  found  in  some  of  the  ways  of  war 
than  in  any  pursuit  of  peace. 

The  feelings  with  which  he  listened  to  Balthasar  can  be 
now  understood.  The  story  touched  two  of  the  most  sen 
sitive  points  of  his  being  so  they  rang  within  him.  His 
heart  beat  fast — and  faster  still  when,  searching  himself, 
he  found  not  a  doubt  either  that  the  recital  was  true  in 
every  particular,  or  that  the  Child  so  miraculously  found 
was  the  Messiah.  Marvelling  much  that  Israel  rested  so 
dead  to  the  revelation,  and  that  he  had  never  heard  of  it 
18 


274  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

before  that  day,  two  questions  presented  themselves  to  him 
as  centring  all  it  was  at  that  moment  further  desirable  to 
know : 

Where  was  the  Child  then  ? 

And  what  was  his  mission  ? 

With  apologies  for  the  interruptions,  he  proceeded  to 
draw  out  the  opinions  of  Balthasar,  who  was  in  nowise 
loath  to  speak. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  IF  I  could  answer  you,"  Balthasar  said,  in  his  simple, 
earnest,  devout  way — "  oh,  if  I  knew  where  he  is,  how 
quickly  I  would  go  to  him  !  The  seas  should  not  stay  me, 
nor  the  mountains." 

"  You  have  tried  to  find  him,  then?"  asked  Ben-IIur. 

A  smile  flitted  across  the  face  of  the  Egyptian. 

"  The  first  task  I  charged  myself  with  after  leaving  the 
shelter  given  me  in  the  desert " — Balthasar  cast  a  grateful 
look  at  Ilderim — "  was  to  learn  what  became  of  the  Child. 
But  a  year  had  passed,  and  I  dared  not  go  up  to  Judea  in 
person,  for  Herod  still  held  the  throne  bloody-minded  as 
ever.  In  Egypt,  upon  my  return,  there  were  a  few  friends 
to  believe  the  wonderful  things  1  told  them  of  what  I  had 
seen  and  heard — a  few  who  rejoiced  with  me  that  a  Re 
deemer  was  born — a  few  who  never  tired  of  the  story. 
Some  of  them  came  up  for  me  looking  after  the  Child. 
They  went  first  to  Bethlehem,  and  found  there  the  khan 
and  the  cave  ;  but  the  steward — he  who  sat  at  the  gate  the 
night  of  the  birth,  and  the  night  we  came  following  the 
star — was  gone.  The  king  had  taken  him  away,  and  he 
was  no  more  seen." 

"But  they  found  some  proofs,  surely,"  said  Ben-IIur, 
eagerly. 

"  Yes,  proofs  written  in  blood — a  village  in  mourning ; 
mothers  yet  crying  for  their  little  ones.  You  must  know, 
when  Herod  heard  of  our  flight,  he  sent  down  and  slew 
the  youngest-born  of  the  children  of  Bethlehem.  Not  one 
escaped.  The  faith  of  my  messengers  was  confirmed  ;  but 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  275 

they  came  to  me  saying  the  Child  was  dead,  slain  with  the 
other  innocents." 

"Dead!"  exclaimed  Ben-IIur,  aghast.  "Dead,  sayest 
thou  I" 

"  Nay,  my  son,  I  did  not  say  so.  I  said  they,  my  mes 
sengers,  told  me  the  Child  was  dead.  I  did  not  believe 
the  report  then  ;  I  do  not  believe  it  now." 

"  I  see — thou  hast  some  special  knowledge." 

"  Not  so,  not  so,"  said  Balthasar,  dropping  his  gaze. 
"  The  Spirit  was  to  go  with  us  no  farther  than  to  the  Child. 
When  we  came  out  of  the  cave,  after  our  presents  were 
given  and  we  had  seen  the  babe,  we  looked  first  thing  for 
the  star ;  but  it  was  gone,  and  we  knew  we  were  left  to 
ourselves.  The  last  inspiration  of  the  Holy  One — the 
last  I  can  recall — was  that  which  sent  us  to  Ilderim  for 
safety." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  sheik,  fingering  his  beard  nervously. 
"  You  told  me  you  were  sent  to  me  by  a  Spirit — I  remem 
ber  it." 

"  I  have  no  special  knowledge,"  Balthasar  continued,  ob 
serving  the  dejection  which  had  fallen  upon  Ben-Hur ; 
"  but,  my  son,  I  have  given  the  matter  much  thought — 
thought  continuing  through  years,  inspired  by  faith,  which, 
I  assure  you,  calling  God  for  witness,  is  as  strong  in  me 
now  as  in  the  hour  I  heard  the  voice  of  the  Spirit  calling 
me  by  the  shore  of  the  lake.  If  you  will  listen,  I  will  tell 
you  why  I  believe  the  Child  is  living." 

Both  Ilderim  and  Ben-IIur  looked  assent,  and  appeared 
to  summon  their  faculties  that  they  might  understand  as 
well  as  hear.  The  interest  reached  the  servants,  who  drew 
near  to  the  divan,  and  stood  listening.  Throughout  the 
tent  there  was  the  profoundest  silence. 

"  We  three  believe  in  God." 

Balthasar  bowed  his  head  as  he  spoke. 

"  And  he  is  the  Truth,"  he  resumed.  "  His  word  is  God. 
The  hills  may  turn  to  dust,  and  the  seas  be  drunk  dry  by 
south  winds ;  but  his  word  shall  stand,  because  it  is  the 
Truth." 

The  utterance  was  in  a  manner  inexpressibly  solemn. 

"  The  voice,  which  was  his,  speaking  to  me  by  the  lake, 


276  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

said, '  Blessed  art  thou,  0  son  of  Mizraim  ?  The  Redemp 
tion  cometh.  With  two  others  from  the  remotenesses  of 
the  earth,  thou  shalt  see  the  Saviour.'  I  have  seen  the  Sav 
iour — blessed  be  his  name ! — but  the  Redemption,  which 
was  the  second  part  of  the  promise,  is  yet  to  come.  Seest 
thou  now  ?  If  the  Child  be  dead,  there  is  no  agent  to  bring 
the  Redemption  about,  and  the  word  is  naught,  and  God — 
nay,  I  dare  not  say  it !" 

lie  threw  up  both  hands  in  horror. 

"  The  Redemption  Avas  the  work  for  which  the  Child 
was  born ;  and  so  long  as  the  promise  abides,  not  even 
death  can  separate  him  from  his  work  until  it  is  fulfilled, 
or  at  least  in  the  way  of  fulfilment.  Take  you  that  now  as 
one  reason  for  my  belief  ;  then  give  rne  further  attention." 

The  good  man  paused. 

"  W^ilt  thou  not  taste  the  wine  ?  It  is  at  thy  hand — see," 
said  Ilderim,  respectfully. 

Balthasar  drank,  and,  seeming  refreshed,  continued  : 

"  The  Saviour  I  saw  was  born  of  woman,  in  nature  like 
us,  and  subject  to  all  our  ills — even  death.  Let  that  stand 
as  the  first  proposition.  Consider  next  the  work  set  apart 
to  him.  Was  it  not  a  performance  for  which  only  a  man 
is  fitted  ? — a  man  wise,  firm,  discreet — a  man,  not  a  child  ? 
To  become  such  he  had  to  grow  as  we  grow.  Bethink  you 
now  of  the  dangers  his  life  was  subject  to  in  the  interval — 
the  long  interval  between  childhood  and  maturity.  The  ex 
isting  powers  were  his  enemies ;  Herod  was  his  enemy ; 
and  what  would  Rome  have  been  ?  And  as  for  Israel — that 
he  should  not  be  accepted  by  Israel  was  the  motive  for  cut 
ting  him  off.  See  you  now.  What  better  way  was  there 
to  take  care  of  his  life  in  the  helpless  growing  time  than 
by  passing  him  into  obscurity  ?  Wherefore  I  say  to  my 
self,  and  to  my  listening  faith,  which  is  never  moved  ex 
cept  by  yearning  of  love — I  say  he  is  not  dead,  but  lost ; 
and,  his  work  remaining  undone,  he  will  come  again.  There 
you  have  the  reasons  for  my  belief.  Are  they  not  good  ?" 

Ilderim's  small  Arab  eyes  were  bright  with  understand 
ing,  and  Ben-Hur,  lifted  from  his  dejection,  said  heartily, 
'  I,  at  least,  may  not  gainsay  them.  What  further,  pray  ?" 

"  Hast  thou  not  enough,  my  son  ?     Well,"  he  began,  in 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE    OF   THE   CHRIST.  277 

calmer  tone,  "  seeing  that  the  reasons  were  good — more 
plainly,  seeing  it  was  God's  will  that  the  Child  should  not 
be  found — I  settled  my  faith  into  the  keeping  of  patience, 
and  took  to  waiting."  He  raised  his  eyes,  full  of  holy 
trust,  and  broke  off  abstractedly — "  I  am  waiting  now.  He 
lives,  keeping  well  his  mighty  secret.  What  though  I  can 
not  go  to  him,  or  name  the  hill  or  the  vale  of  his  abiding- 
place  ?  He  lives — it  may  be  as  the  fruit  in  blossom,  it 
may  he  as  the  fruit  just  ripening ;  but  by  the  certainty 
there  is  in  the  promise  and  reason  of  God,  I  know  he  lives." 

A  thrill  of  awe  struck  Ben-Hur — a  thrill  which  was  but 
the  dying  of  his  half-formed  doubt. 

"  Where  thinkest  thou  he  is  ?"  he  asked,  in  a  low  voice, 
and  hesitating,  like  one  who  feels  upon  his  lips  the  pressure 
of  a  sacred  silence. 

Balthasar  looked  at  him  kindly,  and  replied,  his  mind 
not  entirely  freed  from  its  abstraction, 

"  In  my  house  on  the  Nile,  so  close  to  the  river  that  the 
passers-by  in  boats  see  it  and  its  reflection  in  the  water  at  the 
same  time — in  my  house,  a  few  weeks  ago,  I  sat  thinking. 
A  man  thirty  years  old,  I  said  to  myself,  should  have  his 
lields  of  life  all  ploughed,  and  his  planting  well  done ;  for 
after  that  it  is  summer-time,  with  space  scarce  enough  to 
ripen  his  sowing.  The  Child,  I  said  further,  is  now  twenty- 
seven — his  time  to  plant  must  be  at  hand.  I  asked  myself, 
as  you  here  asked  me,  my  son,  and  answered  by  coming 
hither,  as  to  a  good  resting-place  close  by  the  land  thy  fa 
thers  had  from  God.  Where  else  should  he  appear,  if  not 
in  Judea?  In  what  city  should  he  begin  his  work  if  not  in 
Jerusalem  ?  Who  should  be  first  to  receive  the  blessings 
he  is  to  bring,  if  not  the  children  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
Jacob ;  in  love,  at  least,  the  children  of  the  Lord  ?  If  I 
were  bidden  go  seek  him,  I  would  search  well  the  hamlets 
and  villages  on  the  slopes  of  the  mountains  of  Judea  and 
Galilee  falling  eastwardly  into  the  valley  of  the  Jordan.  He 
is  there  now.  Standing  in  a  door  or  on  a  hill-top,  only  this 
evening  he  saw  the  sun  set  one  day  nearer  the  time  when 
he  himself  shall  become  the  light  of  the  world." 

Balthasar  ceased,  with  his  hand  raised  and  finger  point 
ing  as  if  at  Judeu.  All  the  listeners,  even  the  dull  servants 


<2  78  BEN-HUR-.   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

outside  the  divan,  affected  by  his  fervor,  were  startled  as  if 
by  a  majestic  presence  suddenly  apparent  within  the  tent. 
Nor  did  the  sensation  die  away  at  once  :  of  those  at  the 
table,  each  sat  awhile  thinking.  The  spell  was  finally  broken 
by  Ben-Hur. 

"  I  see,  good  Balthasar,"  he  said,  "  that  thou  hast  been 
much  and  strangely  favored.  I  see,  also,  that  thou  art  a 
wise  man  indeed.  It  is  not  in  my  power  to  tell  how  grate 
ful  I  am  for  the  things  thou  hast  told  me.  I  am  warned 
of  the  coming  of  great  events,  and  borrow  somewhat  from 
thy  faith.  Complete  the  obligation,  I  pray  thee,  by  telling 
further  of  the  mission  of  him  for  whom  thou  art  waiting, 
and  for  whom  from  this  night  I  too  shall  wait  as  becomes 
a  believing  son  of  Judah.  lie  is  to  be  a  Saviour,  thou 
saidst ;  is  he  not  to  be  King  of  the  Jews  also  ?" 

"  My  son,"  said  Balthasar,  in  his  benignant  way,  "  the 
mission  is  yet  a  purpose  in  the  bosom  of  God.  All  I  think 
about  it  is  wrung  from  the  words  of  the  Voice  in  connec 
tion  with  the  prayer  to  which  they  were  in  answer.  Shall 
we  refer  to  them  again  ?" 

"  Thou  art  the  teacher." 

"  The  cause  of  my  disquiet,"  Balthasar  began,  calmly — 
"  that  which  made  me  a  preacher  in  Alexandria  and  in  the 
villages  of  the  Nile ;  that  which  drove  me  at  last  into  the 
solitude  where  the  Spirit  found  me — was  the  fallen  condition 
of  men,  occasioned,  as  I  believed,  by  loss  of  the  knowledge 
of  God.  I  sorrowed  for  the  sorrows  of  my  kind — not  of 
one  class,  but  all  of  them.  So  utterly  were  they  fallen  it 
seemed  to  me  there  could  be  no  Redemption  unless  God 
himself  would  make  it  his  work  ;  and  I  prayed  him  to 
come,  and  that  I  might  see  him.  '  Thy  good  works  have 
conquered.  The  Redemption  cometh ;  thou  shalt  see  the 
Saviour ' — thus  the  Voice  spake ;  and  with  the  answer  I 
went  up  to  Jerusalem  rejoicing.  Now,  to  whom  is  the  Re 
demption  ?  To  all  the  world.  And  how  shall  it  be  ? 
Strengthen  thy  faith,  my  son  !  Men  say,  I  know,  that  there 
will  be  no  happiness  until  Rome  is  razed  from  her  hills. 
That  is  to  say,  the  ills  of  the  time  are  not,  as  I  thought 
them,  from  ignorance  of  God,  but  from  the  misgovernment 
of  rulers.  Do  we  need  to  be  told  that  human  governmente 


BEN-HUB:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  279 

are  never  for  the  sake  of  religion  ?  How  many  kings  have 
you  heard  of  who  were  better  than  their  subjects  ?  Oh 
no,  no  !  The  Redemption  cannot  be  for  a  political  purpose 
— to  pull  down  rulers  and  powers,  and  vacate  their  places 
merely  that  others  may  take  and  enjoy  them.  If  that 
were  all  of  it,  the  wisdom  of  God  would  cease  to  be  sur 
passing.  I  tell  you,  though  it  be  but  the  saying  of  blind 
to  blind,  he  that  comes  is  to  be  a  Saviour  of  souls ;  and 
the  Redemption  means  God  once  more  on  earth,  and  right 
eousness,  that  his  stay  here  may  be  tolerable  to  himself." 

Disappointment  showed  plainly  on  Ben-Hur's  face — his 
head  drooped ;  and  if  he  was  not  convinced,  he  yet  felt 
himself  incapable  that  moment  of  disputing  the  opinion  of 
the  Egyptian.  Not  so  Ilderim. 

"  By  the  splendor  of  God !"  he  cried,  impulsively,  "  the 
judgment  does  away  with  all  custom.  The  ways  of  the 
world  are  fixed,  and  cannot  be  changed.  There  must  be  a 
leader  in  every  community  clothed  with  power,  else  there 
is  no  reform." 

Balthasar  received  the  burst  gravely. 

"  Thy  wisdom,  good  sheik,  is  of  the  world  ;  and  thou 
dost  forget  that  it  is  from  the  ways  of  the  world  we  are  to 
be  redeemed.  Man  as  a  subject  is  the  ambition  of  a  king ; 
the  soul  of  a  man  for  its  salvation  is  the  desire  of  a  God." 

Ilderim,  though  silenced,  shook  his  head,  unwilling  to 
believe.  Ben-IIur  took  up  the  argument  for  him. 

"Father  —  I  call  thee  such  by  permission,"  he  said — 
"  for  whom  wert  thou  required  to  ask  at  the  gates  of  Jeru 
salem  ?" 

The  sheik  threw  him  a  grateful  look. 

"  I  was  to  ask  of  the  people,"  said  Balthasar,  quietly, 
"  where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of  the  Jews  ?' " 

"  And  you  saw  him  in  the  cave  by  Bethlehem  ?" 

"  We  saw  and  worshipped  him,  and  gave  him  presents — 
Melchior,  gold  ;  Gaspar,  frankincense  ;  and  I,  myrrh." 

"  When  thou  dost  speak  of  fact,  O  father,  to  hear  thee 
is  to  believe,"  said  Ben-IIur ;  "  but  in  the  matter  of  opin 
ion,  I  cannot  understand  the  kind  of  king  thou  wouldst 
make  of  the  Child — I  cannot  separate  the  ruler  from  his 
powers  and  duties." 


280  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  Sou,"  said  Baltliasar,  "  we  have  the  habit  of  studying 
closely  the  things  which  chance  to  lie  at  our  feet,  giving 
but  a  look  at  the  greater  objects  in  the  distance.  Thou 
seest  now  but  the  title — King  of  the  Jews  ;  wilt  thou  lift 
thine  eyes  to  the  mystery  beyond  it,  the  stumbling-block 
will  disappear.  Of  the  title,  a  word.  Thy  Israel  hath  seen 
better  days — days  in  which  God  called  thy  people  endear 
ingly  his  people,  and  dealt  with  them  through  prophets. 
Now,  if  in  those  days  he  promised  them  the  Saviour  I  saw 
— promised  him  as  King  of  the  Jeivs — the  appearance  must 
be  according  to  the  promise,  if  only  for  the  word's  sake. 
Ah,  thou  seest  the  reason  of  my  question  at  the  gate ! — 
thou  seest,  and  I  will  no  more  of  it,  but  pass  on.  It  may 
be,  next,  thou  art  regarding  the  dignity  of  the  Child  ;  if  so, 
bethink  thee — what  is  it  to  be  a  successor  of  Herod  ? — by 
the  world's  standard  of  honor,  what  ?  Could  not  God  bet 
ter  by  his  beloved  ?  If  thou  canst  think  of  the  Almighty 
Father  in  want  of  a  title,  and  stooping  to  borrow  the  inven 
tions  of  men,  why  was  I  not  bidden  ask  for  a  Ca?sar  at 
once  ?  Oh,  for  the  substance  of  that  whereof  we  speak, 
look  higher,  I  pray  thee  !  Ask  rather  of  what  he  whom  we 
await  shall  be  king ;  for  I  do  tell,  my  son,  that  is  the  key 
to  the  mystery,  which  no  man  shall  understand  without  the 
key." 

Balthasar  raised  his  eyes  devoutly. 

(  "  There  is  a  kingdom  on  the  earth,  though  it  is  not  of  it 
— a  kingdom  of  wider  bounds  than  the  earth — wider  than 
the  sea  and  the  earth,  though  they  were  rolled  together  as 
finest  gold  and  spread  by  the  beating  of  hammers.  Its  ex 
istence  is  a  fact  as  our  hearts  are  facts,  and  we  journey 
through  it  from  birth  to  death  without  seeing  it ;  nor  shall 
any  man  see  it  until  he  hath  first  known  his  own  soul ;  for 
the  kingdom  is  not  for  him,  but  for  his  soul.  And  in  its 
dominion  there  is  glory  such  as  hath  not  entered  imagina 
tion — original,  incomparable,  impossible  of  increase."  J 

"  What  thou  sayest,  father,  is  a  riddle  to  me,"  said  Ben- 
Hur.  "  I  never  heard  of  such  a  kingdom." 

"  Xor  did  I,"  said  Ilderim. 

"  And  I  may  not  tell  more  of  it,"  Balthasar  added,  hum 
bly  dropping  his  eyes.  "  What  it  is,  what  it  is  for,  how 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  281 

it  may  be  reached,  none  can  know  until  the  Child  comes  to 
take  possession  of  it  as  his  own.  He  brings  the  key  of  the 
viewless  gate,  which  he  will  open  for  his  beloved,  among 
whom  will  be  all  who  love  him,  for  of  such  only  the  re 
deemed  will  be." 

After  that  there  was  a  long  silence,  which  Balthasar  ac 
cepted  as  the  end  of  the  conversation. 

"  Good  sheik,"  he  said,  in  his  placid  way,  "  to-morrow  or 
the  next  day  I  will  go  up  to  the  city  for  a  time.  My  daugh 
ter  wishes  to  see  the  preparations  for  the  games.  I  will 
speak  further  about  the  time  of  our  going.  And,  my 
son,  I  will  see  you  again.  To  you  both,  peace  and  good 
night." 

They  all  arose  from  the  table.  The  sheik  and  Bcn-IIur 
remained  looking  after  the  Egyptian  until  he  was  conducted 
out  of  the  tent. 

"Sheik  Ilderim,"  said  Ben-Hur  then,  "I  have  heard 
strange  things  to-night.  Give  me  leave,  I  pray,  to  walk  by 
the  lake  that  I  may  think  of  them." 

"  Go  ;  and  I  will  come  after  you." 

They  washed  their  hands  again ;  after  which,  at  a  sign 
from  the  master,  a  servant  brought  Ben-IIur  his  shoes,  and 
directly  he  went  out. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

UP  a  little  way  from  the  dowar  there  was  a  cluster  of 
palms  which  threw  its  shade  half  in  the  water,  half  on  the 
land.  A  bulbul  sang  from  the  branches  a  song  of  invita 
tion.  Ben-Hur  stopped  beneath  to  listen.  At  any  other 
time  the  notes  of  the  bird  would  have  driven  thought  away  ; 
but  the  story  of  the  Egyptian  was  a  burden  of  wonder, 
and  he  was  a  laborer  carrying  it,  and,  like  other  laborers, 
there  was  to  him  no  music  in  the  sweetest  music  until 
mind  and  body  were  happily  attuned  by  rest. 

The  night  was  quiet.  Not  a  ripple  broke  upon  the  shore. 
The  old  stars  of  the  old  East  were  all  out,  each  in  its  ac 
customed  place  ;  and  there  was  summer  everywhere — on 
land,  on  lake,  in  the  sky. 


282  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

Ben-Bur's  imagination  was  lieated,  liis  feelings  aroused, 
his  will  all  unsettled. 

So  the  palms,  the  sky,  the  air,  seemed  to  him  of  the  far 
south  zone  into  which  Balthasar  had  been  driven  by  de 
spair  for  men  ;  the  lake,  with  its  motionless  surface,  was  a 
suggestion  of  the  Nilotic  mother  by  which  the  good  man 
stood  praying  when  the  Spirit  made  its  radiant  appearance. 
Had  all  these  accessories  of  the  miracle  come  to  Ben-IIur  ? 
or  had  he  been  transferred  to  them  ?  And  what  if  the  mir 
acle  should  be  repeated — and  to  him?  He  feared,  yet 
wished,  and  even  waited  for  the  vision.  When  at  last  his 
feverish  mood  was  cooled,  permitting  him  to  become  him 
self,  he  was  able  to  think. 

His  scheme  of  life  has  been  explained.  In  all  reflection 
about  it  heretofore  there  had  been  one  hiatus  which  he  had 
not  been  able  to  bridge  or  fill  up — one  so  broad  he  could 
see  but  vaguely  to  the  other  side  of  it.  "When,  finally,  he 
was  graduated  a  captain  as  well  as  a  soldier,  to  what  ob 
ject  should  he  address  his  efforts  ?  Revolution  he  contem 
plated,  of  course ;  but  the  processes  of  revolution  have  al 
ways  been  the  same,  and  to  lead  men  into  them  there  have 
always  been  required,  first,  a  cause  or  pretence  to  enlist 
adherents ;  second,  an  end,  or  something  as  a  practical 
achievement.  As  a  rule  he  fights  well  who  has  wrongs  to 
redress ;  but  vastly  better  fights  he  who,  with  wrongs  as  a 
spur,  has  also  steadily  before  him  a  glorious  result  in  pros 
pect — a  result  in  which  he  can  discern  balm  for  wounds, 
compensation  for  valor,  remembrance  and  gratitude  in  the 
event  of  death. 

To  determine  the  sufficiency  of  either  the  cause  or  the 
end,  it  was  needful  that  Ben-IIur  should  study  the  adhe 
rents  to  whom  he  looked  when  all  was  ready  for  action. 
Very  naturally,  they  were  his  countrymen.  The  wrongs 
of  Israel  were  to  every  son  of  Abraham,  and  each  one  was 
a  cause  vastly  holy,  vastly  inspiring. 

Ay,  the  cause  was  there;  but  the  end — what  should  it 
be? 

The  hours  and  days  he  had  given  this  branch  of  his 
scheme  were  past  calculation — all  with  the  same  conclusion 
— a  dim,  uncertain,  general  idea  of  national  liberty.  Was 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  283 

it  sufficient?  He  could  not  say  no,  for  that  would  have 
been  the  death  of  his  hope  ;  he  shrank  from  saying  yes, 
because  his  judgment  taught  him  better.  He  could  not 
assure  himself  even  that  Israel  was  able  single-handed  to 
successfully  combat  Rome.  He  knew  the  resources  of  that 
great  enemy ;  he  knew  her  art  was  superior  to  her  resources. 
A  universal  alliance  might  suffice,  but,  alas !  that  was  im 
possible,  except — and  upon  the  exception  how  long  and 
earnestly  he  had  dwelt ! — except  a  hero  would  come  from 
one  of  the  suffering  nations,  and  by  martial  successes  ac 
complish  a  renown  to  fill  the  whole  earth.  "What  glory 
to  Judea  could  she  prove  the  Macedonia  of  the  new  Alex 
ander  !  Alas,  again  !  Under  the  rabbis  valor  was  possible, 
but  not  discipline.  And  then  the  taunt  of  Messala  in  the 
garden  of  Herod — "  All  you  conquer  in  the  six  days,  you 
lose  on  the  seventh." 

So  it  happened  he  never  approached  the  chasm  thinking 
to  surmount  it  but  he  was  beaten  back ;  and  so  incessantly 
had  he  failed  in  the  object  that  he  had  about  given  it  over, 
except  as  a  thing  of  chance.  The  hero  might  be  discovered 
in  his  day,  or  he  might  not.  God  only  knew.  Such  his 
state  of  mind,  there  need  be  no  lingering  upon  the  effect 
of  Malluch's  skeleton  recital  of  the  story  of  Balthazar.  He 
heard  it  with  a  bewildering  satisfaction — a  feeling  that  here 
was  the  solution  of  the  trouble — here  was  the  requisite  hero 
found  at  last ;  and  he  a  son  of  the  Lion  tribe,  and  King  of 
the  Jews  !  Behind  the  hero,  lo  !  the  world  in  arms. 

The  king  implied  a  kingdom ;  he  was  to  be  a  warrior 
glorious  as  David,  a  ruler  wise  and  magnificent  as  Solomon ; 
the  kingdom  was  to  be  a  power  against  which  Rome  was 
to  dash  itself  to  pieces.  There  would  be  colossal  war,  and 
the  agonies  of  death  and  birth — then  peace,  meaning,  of 
course,  Judean  dominion  forever. 

Ben-llur's  heart  beat  hard  as  for  an  instant  he  had  a 
vision  of  Jerusalem  the  capital  of  the  world,  and  Zion,  the 
site  of  the  throne  of  the  Universal  Master. 

It  seemed  to  the  enthusiast  rare  fortune  that  the  man 
who  had  seen  the  king  was  at  the  tent  to  which  he  was 
going.  He  could  see  him  there,  and  hear  him,  and  learn 
of  him  what  all  he  knew  of  the  coining  change,  especially 


284  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

all  he  knew  of  the  time  of  its  happening.  If  it  were  at 
hand,  the  campaign  with  Maxentius  should  be  abandoned  ; 
and  he  would  go  and  set  about  organizing  and  arming  the 
tribes,  that  Israel  might  be  ready  when  the  great  day  of 
the  restoration  began  to  break. 

Now,  as  we  have  seen,  from  Balthasar  himself  Bcn-llur 
had  the  marvellous  story.  Was  he  satisfied  ? 

There  was  a  shadow  upon  him  deeper  than  that  of  the 
cluster  of  palms — the  shadow  of  a  great  uncertainty,  which 
— take  note,  O  reader !  which  pertained  more  to  the  king 
dom  than  the  king. 

"  What  of  this  kingdom  ?  And  what  is  it  to  be  ?"  Ben- 
Ilur  asked  himself  in  thought. 

Thus  early  arose  the  questions  which  were  to  follow  the 
Child  to  his  end,  and  survive  him  on  earth — incomprehen 
sible  in  his  day,  a  dispute  in  this — an  enigma  to  all  who 
do  not  or  cannot  understand  that  every  man  is  two  in  one 
— a  deathless  Soul  and  a  mortal  Body. 

"  What  is  it  to  be  !"  he  asked. 

For  us,  O  reader,  the  Child  himself  has  answered ;  but 
for  Ben-Hur  there  were  only  the  words  of  Balthasar,  "  On 
the  earth,  yet  not  of  it — not  for  men,  but  for  their  souls — 
a  dominion,  nevertheless,  of  unimaginable  glory." 

What  wonder  the  hapless  youth  found  the  phrases  but 
the  darkening  of  a  riddle  ? 

"  The  hand  of  man  is  not  in  it,"  he  said,  despairing 
ly.  "  Nor  has  the  king  of  such  a  kingdom  use  for  men  ; 
neither  toilers,  nor  councillors,  nor  soldiers.  The  earth 
must  die,  or  be  made  anew,  and  for  government  new  prin 
ciples  must  be  discovered — something  besides  armed  hands 
— something  in  place  of  Force.  But  what  ? 

Again,  O  reader ! 

That  which  we  will  not  see,  he  could  not.  The  power 
there  is  in  Love  had  not  yet  occurred  to  any  man ;  much 
less  had  one  come  saying  directly  that  for  government  and 
its  objects — peace  and  order — Love  is  better  and  mightier 
than  Force. 

In  the  midst  of  his  reverie  a  hand  was  laid  upon  his 
shoulder. 

"  I  have  a  word  to  say,  O  son  of  Arrius,"  said  Ildcrira, 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  285 

stopping  by  his  side — "  A  word,  and  then  I  must  return, 
for  the  night  is  going." 

"  I  give  you  welcome,  sheik." 

"  As  to  the  things  you  have  heard  but  now,"  said  Ilde- 
rim,  almost  without  pause,  "  take  in  belief  all  save  that 
relating  to  the  kind  of  kingdom  the  Child  will  set  up  when 
lie  comes ;  as  to  so  much  keep  virgin  mind  until  you  hear 
Simonides  the  merchant — a  good  man  here  in  Antioch,  to 
whom  I  will  make  you  known.  The  Egyptian  gives  you 
coinage  of  his  dreams  which  are  too  good  for  the  earth ; 
Simonides  is  wiser ;  he  will  ring  you  the  sayings  of  your 
prophets,  giving  book  and  page,  so  you  cannot  deny  that 
the  Child  will  be  King  of  the  Jews  in  fact — ay,  by  the 
splendor  of  God  !  a  king  as  Herod  was,  only  better  and 
far  more  magnificent.  And  then,  see  you,  we  will  taste 
the  sweetness  of  vengeance.  I  have  said.  Peace  to  you  !" 

"  Stay— sheik !" 

If  Ilderim  heard  his  call,  he  did  not  stay. 

"  Simonides  again !"  said  Ben-IIur,  bitterly.  "  Simonides 
here,  Simonides  there;  from  this  one  now,  then  from  that! 
I  am  like  to  be  well  ridden  by  my  father's  servant,  who 
knows  at  least  to  hold  fast  that  which  is  mine ;  wherefore 
he  is  richer,  if  indeed  he  be  not  wiser,  than  the  Egyptian. 
By  the  covenant !  it  is  not  to  the  faithless  a  man  should 
ge  to  find  a  faith  to  keep — and  I  will  not.  But,  hark !  sing 
ing — and  the  voice  a  woman's — or  an  angel's?  It  comes 
this  way." 

Down  the  lake  towards  the  dowar  came  a  woman  sing 
ing.  Her  voice  floated  along  the  hushed  water  melodious 
as  a  flute,  and  louder  growing  each  instant.  Directly  the 
dipping  of  oars  was  heard  in  slow  measure ;  a  little  later 
the  words  were  distinguishable — words  in  purest  Greek, 
best  fitted  of  all  the  tongues  of  the  day  for  the  expression 
of  passionate  grief. 

THE    LAMENT. 

(Egyptian.) 

"I  sigh  as  I  sing  for  the  story  laud 

Across  the  Syrian  sea. 
The  odorous  winds  from  the  musky  sand 
Were  breaths  of  life  to  me. 


286  BEN-IIUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

They  play  with  the  plumes  of  the  whispering  palm 

For  me,  alas  !  no  more ; 
Xor  more  does  the  Nile  in  the  moonlit  calm 

Moan  past  the  Mcinphian  shore. 

"  0  Nilus  !  thou  god  of  my  fainting  soul ! 

In  dreams  thou  comest  to  me ; 
And,  dreaming,  I  play  with  the  lotus  bowl, 

And  sing  old  songs  to  thee ; 
And  hear  from  afar  the  Memnonian  strain, 

And  calls  from  dear  Simbel ; 
And  wake  to  a  passion  of  grief  and  pain 

That  e'er  I  said — Farewell !" 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  song  the  singer  was  past  the 
cluster  of  palms.  The  last  word — farewell — floated  past 
Ben-IIur  weighted  with  all  the  sweet  sorrow  of  parting. 
The  passing  of  the  boat  was  as  the  passing  of  a  deeper 
shadow  into  the  deeper  night. 

Ben-IIur  drew  a  long  breath  hardly  distinguishable  from 
a  sigh. 

"  I  know  her  by  the  song — the  daughter  of  Balthasar. 
How  beautiful  it  was  !  And  how  beautiful  is  she  !" 

He  recalled  her  large  eyes  curtained  slightly  by  the 
drooping  lids,  the  cheeks  oval  and  rosy  rich,  the  lips  full 
and  deep  with  dimpling  in  the  corners,  and  all  the  grace 
of  the  tall,  lithe  figure.  . 

"  How  beautiful  she  is  !"  he  repeated. 

And  his  heart  made  answer  by  a  quickening  of  its  move 
ment. 

Then,  almost  the  same  instant,  another  face,  younger 
and  quite  as  beautiful — more  childlike  and  tender,  if  not 
so  passionate — appeared  as  if  held  up  to  him  out  of  the 
lake. 

"  Esther  !"  he  said,  smiling.  "  As  I  wished,  a  star  has 
been  sent  to  me." 

He  turned,  and  passed  slowly  back  to  the  tent. 

His  life  had  been  crowded  with  griefs  and  with  vengeful 
preparations — too  much  crowded  for  love.  Was  this  the 
beginning  of  a  happy  change  ? 

And  if  the  influence  went  with  him  into  the  tent,  whose 
was  it? 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  287 

Esther  had  given  him  a  cup. 
So  had  the  Egyptian. 

And  both  had  come  to  him  at  the  same  time  under  the 
palms. 
Which? 


BOOK  FIFTH. 


''Only  the  actions  of  the  just 
Smell  sweet  and  blossom  in  the  dust." 

SHIRLEY. 

"And,  through  the  heat  of  conflict,  keeps  the  law, 
In  calmness  made,  and  sees  what  he  foresaw." 

WORDSWORTH. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE  morning  after  the  bacchanalia  in  the  saloon  of  the 
palace,  the  divan  was  covered  with  young  patricians. 
Maxentius  might  come,  and  the  city  throng  to  receive  him  ; 
the  legion  might  descend  from  Mount  Sulpius  in  glory  of 
arms  and  armor  ;  from  Nymph;oum  to  Omphalus  there 
might  be  ceremonial  splendors  to  shame  the  most  notable 
ever  before  seen  or  heard  of  in  the  gorgeous  East ;  yet 
would  the  many  continue  to  sleep  ignominiously  on  the 
divan  where  they  had  fallen  or  been  carelessly  tumbled  by 
the  indifferent  slaves  ;  that  they  would  be  able  to  take  part 
in  the  reception  that  day  was  about  as  possible  as  for  the 
lay-figures  in  the  studio  of  a  modern  artist  to  rise  and  go 
bonneted  and  plumed  through  the  one,  two,  three  of  a 
waltz. 

Not  all,  however,  who  participated  in  the  orgy  were  in 
the  shameful  condition.  When  dawn  began  to  peer  through 
the  skylights  of  the  saloon,  Messala  arose,  and  took  the 
chaplet  from  his  head,  in  sign  that  the  revel  was  at  end ; 
then  he  gathered  his  robe  about  him,  gave  a  last  look  at 
the  scene,  and,  without  a  word,  departed  for  his  quarters. 
Cicero  could  not  have  retired  with  more  gravity  from  a 
night-long  senatorial  debate. 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  289 

Three  hours  afterwards  two  couriers  entered  his  room, 
and  from  his  own  hand  received  each  a  despatch,  sealed  and 
in  duplicate,  and  consisting  chiefly  of  a  letter  to  Valerius 
Gratus,  the  procurator,  still  resident  in  Cicsarea.  The  im 
portance  attached  to  the  speedy  and  certain  delivery  of  the 
paper  may  be  inferred.  One  courier  was  to  proceed  over 
land,  the  other  by  sea  ;  both  were  to  make  the  utmost  haste. 

It  is  of  great  concern  now  that  the  reader  should  be 
fully  informed  of  the  contents  of  the  letter  thus  forwarded, 
and  it  is  accordingly  given : 

"  ANTIOCII,  XII.  Kal.  Jul. 
"  Messala  to  Gratus. 

"  0  my  Midas  ! 

"I  pray  them  take  no  offence  at  the  address,  seeing  it  is  one  of  love 
and  gratitude,  and  an  admission  that  thou  art  most  fortunate  among 
men ;  seeing,  also,  that  thy  ears  are  as  they  were  derived  from  thy 
mother,  only  proportionate  to  thy  matured  condition. 

"  0  my  Midas  ! 

"I  have  to  relate  to  thee  an  astonishing  event,  which,  though  as  yet 
somewhat  iu  the  field  of  conjecture,  will,  I  doubt  not,  justify  thy  instant 
consideration. 

"Allow  me  first  to  revive  thy  recollection.  Remember,  a  good  many 
years  ago,  a  family  of  a  prince  of  Jerusalem,  incredibly  ancient  and 
vastly  rich — by  name  Ben-IIur.  If  thy  memory  have  a  limp  or  ailment 
of  any  kind,  there  is,  if  I  mistake  not,  a  wound  on  thy  head  which  may 
help  thee  to  a  revival  of  the  circumstance. 

"Next,  to  arouse  thy  interest.  In  punishment  of  the  attempt  upon 
thy  life — for  dear  repose  of  conscience,  may  all  the  gods  forbid  it 
should  ever  prove  to  have  been  an  accident ! — the  family  were  seized 
and  summarily  disposed  of,  and  their  property  confiscated.  And  inas 
much,  0  my  Midas  !  as  the  action  had  the  approval  of  our  Caesar,  who 
was  as  just  as  he  was  wise — be  there  flowers  upon  his  altar  forever ! 
— there  should  be  no  shame  in  referring  to  the  sums  which  were  real 
ized  to  us  respectively  from  that  source,  for  which  it  is  not  possible  I 
can  ever  cease  to  be  grateful  to  thee,  certainly  not  while  I  continue, 
as  at  present,  in  the  uninterrupted  enjoyment  of  the  part  which  fell 
to  me. 

"In  vindication  of  thy  wisdom — a  quality  for  which,  as  I  am  now 
advised,  the  son  of  Gordius,  to  whom  I  have  boldly  likened  thee,  was 
never  distinguished  among  men  or  gods — I  recall  further  that  thou 
didst  make  disposition  of  the  family  of  Hur,  both  of  us  at  the  time 
supposing  the  plan  hit  upon  to  be  the  most  effective  possible  for  the 
purposes  in  view,  which  were  silence  and  delivery  over  to  inevitable 
but  natural  death.  Thou  wilt  remember  what  thou  didst  with  the 
mother  and  sister  of  the  malefactor ;  yet,  if  now  I  yield  to  a  desire  to 
learn  whether  they  be  living  or  dead,  I  know,  from  knowing  the  amia- 
19 


290  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

bility  of  thy  nature,  0  my  Gratus,  that  thou  wilt  pardon  me  as  one 
scarcely  less  amiable  than  thyself. 

"As  more  immediately  essential  to  the  present  business,  however,  I 
take  the  liberty  of  inviting  to  thy  remembrance  that  the  actual  crim 
inal  was  sent  to  the  galleys  a  slave  for  life — so  the  precept  ran ;  and 
it  may  serve  to  make  the  event  which  I  am  about  to  relate  the  more 
astonishing  by  saying  here  that  I  saw  and  read  the  receipt  for  his  body 
delivered  in  course  to  the  tribune  commanding  a  galley. 

"  Thou  mayst  begin  now  to  give  me  more  especial  heed,  0  my  most 
excellent  Phrygian ! 

"  Referring  to  the  limit  of  life  at  the  oar,  the  outlaw  thus  justly  dis 
posed  of  should  be  dead,  or,  better  speaking,  some  one  of  the  three 
thousand  Oceanides  should  have  taken  him  to  husband  at  least  five 
years  ago.  And  if  thou  wilt  excuse  a  momentary  weakness,  0  most 
virtuous  and  tender  of  men !  inasmuch  as  I  loved  him  in  childhood, 
and  also  because  he  was  very  handsome — I  used  in  much  admiration 
to  call  him  my  Ganymede — he  ought  in  right  to  have  fallen  into  the 
arms  of  the  most  beautiful  daughter  of  the  family.  Of  opinion,  how 
ever,  that  he  was  certainly  dead,  I  have  lived  quite  five  years  in  calm 
and  innocent  enjoyment  of  the  fortune  for  which  I  am  in  a  degree  in 
debted  to  him.  I  make  the  admission  of  indebtedness  without  intend 
ing  it  to  diminish  my  obligation  to  thee. 

"  Now  I  am  at  the  very  point  of  interest. 

"Last  night,  while  acting  as  master  of  the  feast  for  a  party  just 
from  Rome — their  extreme  youth  and  inexperience  appealed  to  my 
compassion — I  heard  a  singular  story.  Maxentius,  the  consul,  as  you 
know,  comes  to-day  to  conduct  a  campaign  against  the  Parthians.  Of 
the  ambitious  who  are  to  accompany  him  there  is  one,  a  son  of  the  late 
duumvir  Quintus  Arrius.  I  had  occasion  to  inquire  about  him  par 
ticularly.  When  Arrius  set  out  in  pursuit  of  the  pirates,  whose  defeat 
gained  him  his  final  honors,  he  had  no  family ;  when  he  returned 
from  the  expedition,  he  brought  back  with  him  an  heir.  Now  be  thou 
composed  as  becomes  the  owner  of  so  many  talents  in  ready  sestertii ! 
The  son  and  heir  of  whom  I  speak  is  he  whom  thou  didst  send  to  the 
galleys — the  very  Ben-IIur  who  should  have  died  at  his  oar  five  years 
ago — returned  now  with  fortune  and  rank,  and  possibly  as  a  Roman 
citizen,  to —  Well,  thou  art  too  firmly  seated  to  be  alarmed,  but  I,  0 
my  Midas  !  I  am  in  danger — no  need  to  tell  thee  of  what.  Who  should 
know,  if  thou  dost  not  'f 

"  Sayest  thou  to  all  this,  tut-tut  ? 

"  When  Arrius,  the  father,  by  adoption,  of  this  apparition  from  the 
arms  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  Oceanides  (see  above  my  opinion  of 
what  she  should  be),  joined  battle  with  the  pirates,  his  vessel  was  sunk, 
and  but  two  of  all  her  crew  escaped  drowning — Arrius  himself  and 
this  one,  his  heir. 

"  The  officers  who  took  them  from  the  plank  on  which  they  were 
floating  say  the  associate  of  the  fortunate  tribune  was  a  young  man 
who,  when  lifted  to  the  deck,  was  in  the  dress  of  a  galley  slave. 

"  This  should  be  convincing,  to  say  least ;  but  lest  thou  say  tut-tut 


BEX-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  291 

again,  I  tell  thec,  0  my  Midas !  that  yesterday,  by  good  chance  —  I 
have  a  vow  to  Fortune  in  consequence — I  met  the  mysterious  son  of 
Arrius  face  to  face ;  and  I  declare  now  that,  though  I  did  not  then 
recognize  him,  he  is  the  very  Ben-Hur  who  was  for  years  my  play 
mate  ;  the  very  Ben-Hur  who,  if  he  be  a  man,  though  of  the  commonest 
grade,  must  this  very  moment  of  my  writing  be  thinking  of  vengeance 
— for  so  would  I  were  I  he — vengeance  not  to  be  satisfied  short  of  life ; 
vengeance  for  country,  mother,  sister,  self,  and — I  say  it  last,  though 
thou  mayst  think  it  would  be  first — for  fortune  lost. 

"  By  this  time,  0  good  my  benefactor  and  friend  !  my  Gratus  !  in 
consideration  of  thy  sestertii  in  peril,  their  loss  being  the  worst  which 
could  befall  one  of  thy  high  estate — I  quit  calling  thee  after  the  foolish 
old  King  of  Phrygia — by  this  time,  I  say  (meaning  after  having  read 
me  so  far),  I  have  faith  to  believe  thou  hast  ceased  saying  tut-tut,  and 
art  ready  to  think  what  ought  to  be  done  in  such  emergency. 

"  It  were  vulgar  to  ask  thee  now  what  shall  be  done.  Rather  let  me 
say  I  am  thy  client ;  or,  better  yet,  thou  art  my  Ulysses  whose  part  it 
is  to  give  me  sound  direction. 

"And  I  please  myself  thinking  I  see  thee  when  this  letter  is  put  into 
thy  hand.  I  see  thee  read  it  once,  thy  countenance  all  gravity,  and  then 
again  with  a  smile;  then,  hesitation  ended,  and  thy  judgment  formed, 
it  is  this,  or  it  is  that ;  wisdom  like  Mercury's,  promptitude  like  Caesar's. 

"  The  sun  is  now  fairly  risen.  An  hour  hence  two  messengers  will 
depart  from  my  door, each  with  a  sealed  copy  hereof;  one  of  them 
will  go  by  land,  the  other  by  sea,  so  important  do  I  regard  it  that  thou 
shouldst  be  early  and  particularly  informed  of  the  appearance  of  our 
enemy  in  this  part  of  our  Roman  world. 

"  I  will  await  thy  answer  here. 

"Ben-Hur's  going  and  coming  will  of  course  be  regulated  by  his 
master,  the  consul,  who,  though  he  exert  himself  without  rest  day  and 
night,  cannot  get  away  under  a  month.  Thou  knowest  what  work  it 
is  to  assemble  and  provide  for  an  army  destined  to  operate  in  a  deso 
late,  townless  country. 

"  I  saw  the  Jew  yesterday  in  the  Grove  of  Daphne ;  and  if  he  be 
not  there  now,  he  is  certainly  in  the  neighborhood,  making  it  easy  for 
me  to  keep  him  in  eye.  Indeed,  wert  thou  to  ask  me  where  he  is  now, 
I  should  say,  with  the  most  positive  assurance,  ho  is  to  be  found  at  the 
old  Orchard  of  Palms,  under  the  tent  of  the  traitor  Sheik  Ilderim,  who 
cannot  long  escape  our  strong  hand.  Be  not  surprised  if  Maxentius,  as 
his  first  measure,  places  the  Arab  on  the  ship  for  forwarding  to  Rome. 

"  I  am  so  particular  about  the  \yhereabouts  of  the  Jew  because  it  will 
be  important  to  thee,  0  illustrious  !  when  thou  comest  to  consider  what 
is  to  be  done ;  for  already  I  know,  and  by  the  knowledge  I  flatter  my 
self  I  am  growing  in  wisdom,  that  in  every  scheme  involving  human 
action  there  are  three  elements  always  to  be  taken  in  account — time, 
place,  and  agency. 

"If  thou  sayest  this  is  the  place,  have  thou  then  no  hesitancy  in 
trusting  the  business  to  thy  most  loving  friend,  who  would  be  thy  apt- 
est  scholar  as  well.  MESSALA." 


292  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ABOUT  the  time  the  couriers  departed  from  Messala's  door 
with  the  despatches  (it  being  yet  the  early  morning  hour), 
Ben-IIur  entered  Ilderim's  tent.  He  had  taken  a  plunge 
into  the  lake,  and  breakfasted,  and  appeared  now  in  an 
under-tunic,  sleeveless,  and  with  skirt  scarcely  reaching  to 
the  knee. 

The  sheik  saluted  him  from  the  divan. 

"  I  give  thee  peace,  son  of  Arrius,"  he  said,  with  admi 
ration,  for,  in  truth,  he  had  never  seen  a  more  perfect  illus 
tration  of  glowing,  powerful,  confident  manhood.  "  I 
give  thee  peace  and  good-will.  The  horses  are  ready,  I 
am  ready.  And  thou  ?" 

"  The  peace  thou  givcst  me,  good  sheik,  I  give  thee  in 
return.  I  thank  thee  for  so  much  good-will.  I  am  ready." 

Ilderim  clapped  his  hands. 

"  I  will  have  the  horses  brought.     Be  seated." 

"Are  they  yoked?" 

"  No." 

"  Then  suffer  me  to  serve  myself,"  said  Ben-Hur.  "  It 
is  needful  that  I  make  the  acquaintance  of  thy  Arabs.  I 
must  know  them  by  name,  O  sheik,  that  I  may  speak  to 
them  singly ;  nor  less  must  I  know  their  temper,  for  they 
are  like  men  ;  if  bold,  the  better  of  scolding ;  if  timid,  the 
better  of  praise  and  flattery.  Let  the  servants  bring  me 
the  harness." 

"  And  the  chariot  ?"  asked  the  shiek. 

"  I  will  let  the  .chariot  alone  to  day.  In  its  place,  let 
them  bring  me  a  fifth  horse,  if  thou  hast  it ;  he  should  be 
barebacked,  and  fleet  as  the  others." 

Ilderim's  wonder  was  aroused,  and  he  summoned  a  ser 
vant  immediately. 

"  Bid  them  bring  the  harness  for  the  four,"  he  said — 
"  the  harness  for  the  four,  and  the  bridle  for  Sirius." 

lldcrim  then  arose. 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  293 

"  Sirius  is  my  love,  and  I  am  his,  O  son  of  Arrius.  We 
have  been  comrades  for  twenty  years — in  tent,  in  battle,  in 
all  stages  of  the  desert  we  have  been  comrades.  I  will  show 
him  to  you." 

Going  to  the  division  curtain,  he  held  it,  while  Ben-Hur 
passed  under.  The  horses  came  to  him  in  a  body.  One 
with  a  small  head,  luminous  eyes,  neck  like  the  segment  of 
a  bended  bow,  and  mighty  chest,  curtained  thickly  by  a 
profusion  of  mane  soft  and  wavy  as  a  damsel's  locks,  nick 
ered  low  and  gladly  at  sight  of  him. 

"  Good  horse,"  said  the  sheik,  patting  the  dark-brown 
cheek.  "  Good  horse,  good-morning."  Turning  then  to 
Ben-Hur,  he  added,  "  This  is  Sirius,  father  of  the  four  here. 
Mira,  the  mother,  awaits  our  return,  being  too  precious  to 
be  hazarded  in  a  region  where  there  is  a  stronger  hand 
than  mine.  And  much  I  doubt,"  he  laughed  as  he  spoke 
— "much  I  doubt,  O  son  of  Arrius,  if  the  tribe  could  en 
dure  her  absence.  She  is  their  glory  ;  they  worship  her ; 
did  she  gallop  over  them,  they  would  laugh.  Ten  thou 
sand  horsemen,  sons  of  the  desert,  will  ask  to-day,  '  Have 
you  heard  of  Mira  ?'  And  to  the  answer,  '  She  is  well,' 
they  will  say, '  God  is  good  !  blessed  be  God  !'  " 

"  Mira — Sirius — names  of  stars,  are  they  not,  O  sheik  ?" 
asked  Ben-IIur,  going  to  each  of  the  four,  and  to  the  sire, 
offering  his  hand. 

"  And  why  not  ?"  replied  Ilderim.  "  Wert  thou  ever 
abroad  on  the  desert  at  night  ?" 

«  No." 

"  Then  thou  canst  not  know  how  much  we  Arabs  de 
pend  upon  the  stars.  We  borrow  their  names  in  gratitude, 
and  give  them  in  love.  My  fathers  all  had  their  Miras,  as 
I  have  mine ;  and  these  children  are  stars  no  less.  There, 
see  thou,  is  Kigel,  and  there  Antares ;  that  one  is  Atair,  and 
he  whom  thou  goest  to  now  is  Aldebaran,  the  youngest 
of  the  brood,  but  none  the  worse  of  that — no,  not  he ! 
Against  the  wind  he  will  carry  thee  till  it  roar  in  thy  ears 
like  Akaba ;  and  he  will  go  where  thou  sayest,  son  of 
Arrius — ay,  by  the  glory  of  Solomon  !  he  will  take  thee  to 
the  lion's  jaws,  if  thou  darest  so  much." 

The  harness  was  brought.     With  his  own  hands  Ben- 


294  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

Ilur  equipped  the  horses ;  with  his  own  hands  he  led  them 
out  of  the  tent,  and  there  attached  the  reins. 

"  Bring  me  Sinus,"  he  said. 

An  Arab  could  not  have  better  sprung  to  seat  on  the 
courser's  back. 

"  And  now  the  reins." 

They  were  given  him,  and  carefully  separated. 

"  Good  sheik,"  he  said,  "  I  am  ready.  Let  a  guide  go 
before  me  to  the  field,  and  send  some  of  thy  men  with 
water." 

There  was  no  trouble  at  starting.  The  horses  were  not 
afraid.  Already  there  seemed  a  tacit  understanding  be 
tween  them  and  the  new  driver,  who  had  performed  his 
part  calmly,  and  with  the  confidence  which  always  begets 
confidence.  The  order  of  going  was  precisely  that  of  driv 
ing,  except  that  Ben-Hur  sat  upon  Sirius  instead  of  stand 
ing  in  the  chariot.  Ilderim's  spirit  arose.  He  combed  his 
beard,  and  smiled  with  satisfaction  as  he  muttered,  "  He  is 
not  a  Roman,  no,  by  the  splendor  of  God  !"  He  followed 
on  foot,  the  entire  tenantry  of  the  do  war — men,  women, 
and  children — pouring  after  him,  participants  all  in  his 
solicitude,  if  not  in  his  confidence. 

The  field,  when  reached,  proved  ample  and  well  fitted  for 
the  training,  which  Ben-Hur  began  immediately  by  driving 
the  four  at  first  slowly,  and  in  perpendicular  lines,  and  then 
in  wide  circles.  Advancing  a  step  in  the  course,  he  put 
them  next  into  a  trot ;  again  progressing,  he  pushed  into  a 
gallop ;  at  length  he  contracted  the  circles,  and  yet  later 
drove  eccentrically  here  and  there,  right,  left,  forward,  and 
without  a  break.  An  hour  was  thus  occupied.  Slowing 
the  gait  to  a  walk,  he  drove  up  to  Ilderim. 

"  The  work  is  done,  nothing  now  but  practice,"  he  said. 
u  I  give  you  joy,  Sheik  Ilderim,  that  you  have  such  servants 
as  these.  See,"  he  continued,  dismounting  and  going  to 
the  horses,  "see,  the  gloss  of  their  red  coats  is  without 
spot ;  they  breathe  lightly  as  when  I  began.  I  give  thee 
great.joy,  and  it  will  go  hard  if  " — he  turned  his  flashing 
eyes  upon  the  old  man's  face — "  if  we  have  not  the  victory 
and  our — " 

He  stopped,  colored,  bowed.     At  the  sheik's  side  he  ob- 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  295 

served,  for  the  first  time,  Balthasar,  leaning  upon  his  staff, 
and  two  women  closely  veiled.  At  one  of  the  latter  he 
looked  a  second  time,  saying  to  himself,  with  a  flutter  about 
his  heart,  "  'Tis  she — 'tis  the  Egyptian  !"  Ilderim  picked 
up  his  broken  sentence — 

"  The  victory,  and  our  revenge  !"  Then  he  said  aloud, 
"  I  am  not  afraid  ;  I  am  glad.  Son  of  Arrius,  thou  art  the 
man.  Be  the  end  like  the  beginning,  and  thou  shalt  see  of 
what  stuff  is  the  lining  of  the  hand  of  an  Arab  who  is  able 
to  give." 

"  I  thank  thee,  good  sheik,"  Ben-Hur  returned,  modestly, 
"  Let  the  servants  bring  drink  for  the  horses." 

With  his  own  hands  he  gave  the  water. 

Remounting  Sirius,  he  renewed  the  training,  going  as 
before  from  walk  to  trot,  from  trot  to  gallop ;  finally,  he 
pushed  the  steady  racers  into  the  run,  gradually  quickening 
it  to  full  speed.  The  performance  then  became  exciting ;  and 
there  were  applause  for  the  dainty  handling  of  the  reins, 
and  admiration  for  the  four,  which  were  the  same,  whether 
they  flew  forward  or  wheeled  in  varying  curvature.  In 
their  action  there  were  unity,  power,  grace,  pleasure,  all 
without  effort  or  sign  of  labor.  The  admiration  was  un 
mixed  with  pity  or  reproach,  which  would  have  been  as 
well  bestowed  upon  swallows  in  their  evening  flight. 

In  the  midst  of  the  exercises,  and  the  attention  they  re 
ceived  from  all  the  bystanders,  Malluch  came  upon  the 
ground,  seeking  the  sheik. 

"  I  have  a  message  for  you,  O  sheik,"  he  said,  availing 
himself  of  a  moment  he  supposed  favorable  for  the  speech 
— "  a  message  from  Simonides,  the  merchant." 

"  Simonides  !"  ejaculated  the  Arab.  "  Ah  !  'tis  well. 
May  Abaddon  take  all  his  enemies !" 

"  He  bade  me  give  thee  first  the  holy  peace  of  God," 
Malluch  continued  ;  "  and  then  this  despatch,  with  prayer 
that  thou  read  it  the  instant  of  receipt." 

Ilderim,  standing  in  his  place,  broke  the  sealing  of  the 
package  delivered  to  him,  and  from  a  wrapping  of  fine 
linen  took  two  letters,  which  he  proceeded  to  read. 


296  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 


[No.  1.] 

"  Simonidcs  to  Sheik  llderim. 

"  0  friend ! 

"  Assure  thyself  first  of  a  place  in  my  inner  heart. 

"Then— 

"  There  is  in  thy  dowar  a  youth  of  fair  presence,  calling  himself  the 
son  of  Arrius ;  and  such  he  is  by  adoption. 

"He  is  very  dear  to  me. 

"  He  hath  a  wonderful  history,  which  I  will  tell  thee ;  come  thou 
to-day  or  to-morrow,  that  I  may  tell  thee  the  history,  and  have  thy 
counsel. 

"Meantime,  favor  all  his  requests,  so  they  be  not  against  honor. 
Should  there  be  need  of  reparation,  I  am  bound  to  thee  for  it. 

"  That  I  have  interest  in  this  youth,  keep  thou  private. 

"Remember  me  to  thy  other  guest.  He,  his  daughter,  thyself,  and 
all  whom  thou  mayst  choose  to  be  of  thy  company,  must  depend  upon 
me  at  the  Circus  the  day  of  the  games.  I  have  seats  already  en- 
gaged. 

"  To  thee  and  all  thine,  peace. 

"  What  should  I  be,  0  my  friend,  but  thy  friend  ? 

"  SlMONIDES." 

[No.  2.] 

"Simonidcs  to  Sheik  llderim. 

" 0  friend ! 

"  Out  of  the  abundance  of  my  experience,  I  send  you  a  word. 

"There  is  a  sign  which  all  persons  not  Romans,  and  who  have 
moneys  or  goods  subject  to  despoilment,  accept  as  warning — that  is, 
the  arrival  at  a  seat  of  power  of  some  high  Roman  official  charged 
witli  authority. 

"  To-day  comes  the  Consul  Maxentius. 

"  Be  thou  warned  ! 

"Another  word  of  advice. 

"A  conspiracy,  to  be  of  effect  against  thee,  0  friend,  must  include 
the  Herods  as  parties ;  thou  hast  great  properties  in  their  dominions. 

"Wherefore  keep  thou  watch. 

"  Send  this  morning  to  thy  trusty  keepers  of  the  roads  leading  south 
from  Antioch,  and  bid  them  search  every  courier  going  and  coming ; 
if  they  find  private  despatches  relating  to  thee  or  thine  affairs,  thou 
shouldst  see  them. 

"  You  should  have  received  this  yesterday,  though  it  is  not  too  late, 
if  you  act  promptly. 

"  If  couriers  left  Antioch  this  morning,  your  messengers  know  the 
byways,  and  can  get  before  them  with  your  orders. 

"  Do  not  hesitate 

"  Burn  this  after  reading. 

"  0  my  friend !  thy  friend,  SIMONIDES." 


BEN-I1UR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  297 

Ildcrim  read  the  letters  a  second  time,  and  refolded 
them  in  the  linen  wrap,  and  put  the  package  under  his 
girdle. 

The  exercises  in  the  field  continued  but  a  little  longer 
— in  all  about  two  hours.  At  their  conclusion,  Ben-llur 
brought  the  four  to  a  walk,  and  drove  to  Ilderim. 

"  With  leave,  O  sheik,"  he  said,  "  I  will  return  thy  Arabs 
to  the  tent,  and  bring  them  out  again  this  afternoon." 

Ilderim  walked  to  him  as  he  sat  .on  Sirius,  and  said,  "  I 
give  them  to  you,  son  of  Arrius,  to  do  with  as  you  will 
until  after  the  games.  You  have  done  with  them  in  two 
hours  what  the  Roman — may  jackals  gnaw  his  bones  flesh- 
less  ! — could  not  in  as  many  weeks.  We  will  win — by  the 
splendor  of  God,  we  will  win  !" 

At  the  tent  Ben-IIur  remained  with  the  horses  while 
they  were  being  cared  for ;  then,  after  a  plunge  in  the  lake 
and  a  cup  of  arrack  with  the  sheik,  whose  flow  of  spirits 
was  royally  exuberant,  he  dressed  himself  in  his  Jewish 
garb  again,  and  walked  with  Malluch  on  into  the  Orchard. 

There  was  much  conversation  between  the  two,  not  all 
of  it  important.  One  part,  however,  must  not  be  over 
looked.  Ben-IIur  was  speaking. 

"  I  will  give  you,"  he  said,  "  an  order  for  my  property 
stored  in  the  khan  this  side  the  river  by  the  Seleucian 
Bridge.  Bring  it  to  me  to-day,  if  you  can.  And,  good 
Malluch — if  I  do  not  overtask  you — ' 

Malluch  protested  heartily  his  willingness  to  be  of  ser-- 
vice. 

"  Thank  you,  Malluch,  thank  you,"  said  Ben-IIur.  "  I 
will  take  you  at  your  word,  remembering  that  we  are  breth 
ren  of  the  old  tribe,  and  that  the  enemy  is  a  Roman.  First, 
then — as  you  are  a  man  of  business,  which  I  much  fear 
Sheik  Ilderim  is  not — " 

"  Arabs  seldom  are,"  said  Malluch,  gravely. 

"  Nay,  I  do  not  impeach  their  shrewdness,  Malluch.  It 
is  well,  however,  to  look  after  them.  To  save  all  forfeit  or 
hindrance  in  connection  with  the  race,  you  would  put  me 
perfectly  at  rest  by  going  to  the  office  of  the  Circus,  and 
seeing  that  he  has  complied  with  every  preliminary  rule  ; 
and  if  you  can  get  a  copy  of  the  rules,  the  service  may  bo 


298  BEN-HUE:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

of  great  avail  to  me.  I  would  like  to  know  the  colors  I 
am  to  wear,  and  particularly  the  number  of  the  crypt  I  am 
to  occupy  at  the  starting ;  if  it  be  next  Messala's  on  the 
right  or  left,  it  is  well ;  if  not,  and  you  can  have  it  changed 
so  as  to  bring  me  next  the  Roman,  do  so.  Have  you  good 
memory,  Malluch  ?" 

"  It  has  failed  me,  but  never,  son  of  Arrius,  where  the 
heart  helped  it  as  now." 

"  I  will  venture,  then,  to  charge  you  with  one  further 
service.  I  saw  yesterday  that  Messala  was  proud  of  his 
chariot,  as  he  might  be,  for  the  best  of  Ca3sar's  scarcely 
surpass  it.  Can  you  not  make  its  display  an  excuse  which 
will  enable  you  to  find  if  it  be  light  or  heavy  ?  I  would 
like  to  have  its  exact  weight  and  measurements — and,  Mal 
luch,  though  you  fail  in  all  else,  bring  me  exactly  the  height 
his  axle  stands  above  the  ground.  You  understand,  Mal 
luch  ?  I  do  not  wish  him  to  have  any  actual  advantage  of 
me.  I  do  not  care  for  his  splendor ;  if  I  beat  him,  it  will 
make  his  fall  the  harder,  and  my  triumph  the  more  com 
plete.  If  there  are  advantages  really  important,  I  want 
them." 

"  I  see,  I  see  !"  said  Malluch.  "  A  line  dropped  from 
the  centre  of  the  axle  is  what  you  want." 

"  Thou  hast  it ;  and  be  glad,  Malluch — it  is  the  last  of 
my  commissions.  Let  us  return  to  the  dowar." 

At  the  door  of  the  tent  they  found  a  servant  replenish 
ing  the  smoke  -  stained  bottles  of  leben  freshly  made,  and 
stopped  to  refresh  themselves.  Shortly  afterwards  Mal 
luch  returned  to  the  city. 

During  their  absence,  a  messenger  well  mounted  had 
been  despatched  with  orders  as  suggested  by  Simonides. 
He  was  an  Arab,  and  carried  nothing  written. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  IRAS,  the  daughter  of  Balthasar,  sends  me  with  saluta 
tion  and  a  message,"  said  a  servant  to  Ben-Uur,  who  was 
taking  his  ease  in  the  tent. 

"  Give  me  the  message." 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  299 

"  Would  it  please  you  to  accompany  her  upon  the  lake  ?" 
"  I  will  carry  the  answer  myself.     Tell  her  so." 
His  shoes  were  brought  him,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Ben- 
Ilur  sallied  out  to  find  the  fair  Egyptian.     The  shadow  of 
the  mountains  was  creeping  over  the  Orchard  of  Palms  in 
advance  of  night.     Afar  through  the  trees  came  the  tink 
ling  of  sheep-bells,  the  lowing  of  cattle,  and  the  voices  of 
the  herdsmen  bringing  their  charges  home.     Life  at  the 
Orchard,  it  should  be  remembered,  was  in  all  respects  as 
pastoral  as  life  on  the  scantier  meadows  of  the  desert. 

Sheik  Ilderim  had  witnessed  the  exercises  of  the  after 
noon,  being  a  repetition  of  those  of  the  morning ;  after 
which  he  had  gone  to  the  city  in  answer  to  the  invitation 
of  Simonides ;  he  might  return  in  the  night ;  but,  consid 
ering  the  immensity  of  the  field  to  be  talked  over  with  his 
friend,  it  was  hardly  possible.  Ben-IIur,  thus  left  alone, 
had  seen  his  horses  cared  for ;  cooled  and  purified  himself 
in  the  lake ;  exchanged  the  field  garb  for  his  customary 
vestments,  all  white,  as  became  a  Sadducean  of  the  pure 
blood ;  supped  early  ;  and,  thanks  to  the  strength  of  youth, 
was  well  recovered  from  the  violent  exertion  he  had  under 
gone. 

It  is  neither  wise  nor  honest  to  detract  from  beauty  as  a 
quality.  There  cannot  be  a  refined  soul  insensible  to  its 
influence.  The  story  of  Pygmalion  and  his  statue  is  as  nat 
ural  as  it  is  poetical.  Beauty  is  of  itself  a  power ;  and  it 
was  now  drawing  Ben-Hur. 

The  Egyptian  was  to  him  a  wonderfully  beautiful  wom 
an — beautiful  of  face,  beautiful  of  form.  In  his  thought 
she  always  appeared  to  him  as  he  saw  her  at  the  fountain  ; 
and  he  felt  the  influence  of  her  voice,  sweeter  because  in 
tearful  expression  of  gratitude  to  him,  and  of  her  eyes — 
the  large,  soft,  black,  almond-shaped  eyes  declarative  of  her 
race — eyes  which  looked  more  than  lies  in  the  supremest 
wealth  of  words  to  utter ;  and  recurrences  of  the  thought 
of  her  were  returns  just  so  frequent  of  a  figure  tall,  slender, 
graceful,  refined,  wrapped  in  rich  and  floating  drapery, 
wanting  nothing  but  a  fitting  mind  to  make  her,  like  the 
Shulamite,  and  in  the  same  sense,  terrible  as  an  army  with 
banners.  In  other  words,  as  she  returned  to  his  fancy,  the 


300  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

whole  passionate  Song  of  Solomon  came  with  her,  inspired 
by  her  presence.  With  this  sentiment  and  that  feeling,  he 
was  going  to  see  if  she  actually  justified  them.  It  was  not 
love  that  was  taking  him,  but  admiration  and  curiosity, 
which  might  be  the  heralds  of  love. 

The  landing  was  a  simple  affair,  consisting  of  a  short 
stairway,  and  a  platform  garnished  by  some  lamp-posts ; 
yet  at  the  top  of  the  steps  he  paused,  arrested  by  what  he 
beheld. 

There  was  a  shallop  resting  upon  the  clear  water  lightly 
as  an  egg-shell.  An  Ethiop — the.  camel-driver  at  the  Cas- 
talian  fount — occupied  the  rower's  place,  his  blackness  in 
tensified  by  a  livery  of  shining  white.  All  the  boat  aft 
was  cushioned  and  carpeted  with  stuffs  brilliant  with  Tyr- 
ian  red.  On  the  rudder  seat  sat  the  Egyptian  herself, 
sunk  in  Indian  shawls  and  a  very  vapor  of  most  delicate 
veils  and  scarfs.  Her  arms  were  bare  to  the  shoulders ; 
and,  not  merely  faultless  in  shape,  they  had  the  effect  of 
compelling  attention  to  them  —  their  pose,  their  action, 
their  expression ;  the  hands,  the  fingers  even,  seemed  en 
dowed  with  graces  and  meaning ;  each  was  an  object  of 
beauty.  The  shoulders  and  neck  were  protected  from  the 
evening  air  by  an  ample  scarf,  which  yet  did  not  hide 
them. 

In  the  glance  he  gave  her,  Ben-IIur  paid  no  attention  to 
these  details.  There  was  simply  an  impression  made  upon 
him  ;  and,  like  strong  light,  it  was  a  sensation,  not  a  thing 
of  sight  or  enumeration.  Thy  lips  are  like  a  thread  of 
scarlet ;  thy  temples  are  like  a  piece  of  pomegranate  with 
in  thy  locks.  Rise  up,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come 
away-;  for,  lo  !  the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over  and 
gone  ;  the  flowers  appear  on  the  earth ;  the  time  of  the 
singing  of  birds  is  come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is 
heard  in  the  land — such  was  the  impression  she  made 
upon  him  translated  into  words. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  observing  him  stop,  "  come,  or  I  shall 
think  you  a  poor  sailor." 

The  red  of  his  cheek  deepened.  Did  she  know  any 
thing  of  his  life  upon  the  sea  ?  He  descended  to  the  plat 
form  at  once. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  301 

"  I  was  afraid,"  lie  said,  as  lie  took  the  vacant  seat  be 
fore  her. 

«  Of  what  ?" 

"  Of  sinking  the  boat,"  he  replied,  smiling. 

"  Wait  until  we  are  in  deeper  water,"  she  said,  giving  a 
signal  to  the  black,  who  dipped  the  oars,  and  they  were  off. . 

If  love  and  Ben-llur  were  enemies,  the  latter  was  never 
more  at  mercy.  The  Egyptian  sat  where  he  could  not  but 
see  her ;  she,  whom  he  had  already  engrossed  in  memory 
as  his  ideal  of  the  Shulamite.  With  her  eyes  giving  light 
to  his,  the  stars  might  come  out,  and  he  not  see  them  ;  and 
so  they  did.  The  night  might  fall  with  unrelieved  dark 
ness  everywhere  else ;  her  look  would  make  illumination 
for  him.  And  then,  as  everybody  knows,  given  youth  and 
such  companionship,  there  is  no  situation  in  which  the 
fancy  takes  such  complete  control  as  upon  tranquil  waters 
under  a  calm  night  sky,  warm  with  summer.  It  is  so  easy 
at  such  time  to  glide  imperceptibly  out  of  the  common 
place  into  the  ideal. 

"  Give  me  the  rudder,"  he  said. 

"No,"  she  replied,  "that  were  to  reverse  the  relation. 
Did  I  not  ask  you  to  ride  with  me  ?  I  am  indebted  to 
you,  and  would  begin  payment.  You  may  talk  and  I  will 
listen,  or  I  will  talk  and  you  will  listen :  that  choice  is 
yours ;  but  it  shall  be  mine  to  choose  where  we  go,  and 
the  way  thither." 

"  And  where  may  that  be  ?" 

"  You  are  alarmed  again." 

"  0  fair  Egyptian,  I  but  asked  you  the  first  question  of 
every  captive." 

"  Call  me  Egypt." 

"  I  would  rather  call  you  Iras." 

"  You  may  think  of  me  by  that  name,  but  call  me  Egypt." 

"  Egypt  is  a  country,  and  means  many  people." 

"  Yes,  yes  !     And  such  a  country  !" 

"  I  see ;  it  is  to  Egypt  we  are  going." 

"  Would  we  were !     I  would  be  so  glad." 

She  sighed  as  she  spoke. 

"  You  have  no  care  for  me,  then,"  he  said. 

"  Ah,  by  that  I  know  you  were  never  there." 


302  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  I  never  was." 

"  Oh,  it  is  the  land  where  there  are  no  unhappy  people, 
the  desired  of  all  the  rest  of  the  earth,  the  mother  of  all 
the  gods,  and  therefore  supremely  blest.  There,  O  son  of 
Arrius,  there  the  happy  find  increase  of  happiness,  and  the 
wretched,  going,  drink  once  of  the  sweet  water  of  the  sa 
cred  river,  and  laugh  and  sing,  rejoicing  like  children." 

"  Are  not  the  very  poor  with  you  there  as  elsewhere  ?" 

"  The  very  poor  in  Egypt  are  the  very  simple  in  wants 
and  ways,"  she  replied.  "  They  have  no  wish  beyond  enough, 
and  how  little  that  is,  a  Greek  or  a  Roman  cannot  know." 

"  But  I  am  neither  Greek  nor  Roman." 

She  laughed. 

"  I  have  a  garden  of  roses,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  is  a 
tree,  and  its  bloom  is  the  richest  of  all.  Whence  came 
it,  think  you  ?" 

"  From  Persia,  the  home  of  the  rose." 

"  No." 

"  From  India,  then." 

"  No." 

"  Ah  !  one  of  the  isles  of  Greece." 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  she  said  :  "  a  traveller  found  it  perish 
ing  by  the  roadside  on  the  plain  of  Rephaim." 

"  Oh,  in  Judea  !" 

"  I  put  it  in  the  earth  left  bare  by  the  receding  Nile, 
and  the  soft  south  wind  blew  over  the  desert  and  nursed 
it,  and  the  sun  kissed  it  in  pity ;  after  which  it  could  not 
else  than  grow  and  flourish.  I  stand  in  its  shade  now,  and 
it  thanks  me  with  much  perfume.  As  with  the  roses,  so 
with  the  men  of  Israel.  Where  shall  they  reach  perfec 
tion  but  in  Egypt  ?" 

"  Moses  was  but  one  of  millions." 

"  Nay,  there  was  a  reader  of  dreams.  Will  you  forget 
him  ?"  ' 

"  The  friendly  Pharaohs  are  dead." 

"  Ah,  yes !  The  river  by  which  they  dwelt  sings  to 
them  in  their  tombs ;  yet  the  same  sun  tempers  the  same 
air  to  the  same  people." 

"  Alexandria  is  but  a  Roman  town." 

"  She  has  but  exchanged  sceptres.     Caesar  took  from 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  303 

her  that  of  the  sword,  and  in  its  place  left  that  of  learning. 
Go  with  me  to  the  Brucheium,  and  I  will  show  yon  the 
college  of  nations ;  to  the  Serapeion,  and  see  the  perfec 
tion  of  architecture  ;  to  the  Library,  and  read  the  immor 
tals  ;  to  the  theatre,  and  hear  the  heroics  of  the  Greeks 
and  Hindoos ;  to  the  quay,  and  count  the  triumphs  of 
commerce ;  descend  with  me  into  the  streets,  O  son  of 
Arrius,  and,  when  the  philosophers  have  dispersed,  and 
taken  with  them  the  masters  of  all  the  arts,  and  all  the 
gods  have  home  their  votaries,  and  nothing  remains  of 
the  day  but  its  pleasures,  you  shall  hear  the  stories  that 
have  amused  men  from  the  beginning,  and  the  songs 
which  will  never,  never  die." 

As  he  listened,  Ben-llur  was  carried  back  to  the  night 
when,  in  the  summer-house  in  Jerusalem,  his  mother,  in 
much  the  same  poetry  of  patriotism,  declaimed  the  de 
parted  glories  of  Israel. 

"  I  see  now  why  you  wish  to  be  called  Egypt.  Will 
you  sing  me  a  song  if  I  call  you  by  that  name  ?  I  heard 
you  last  night." 

"  That  was  a  hymn  of  the  Nile,"  she  answered,  "  a  la 
ment  which  I  sing  when  I  would  fancy  I  smell  the  breath 
of  the  desert,  and  hear  the  surge  of  the  dear  old  river ;  let 
me  rather  give  you  a  piece  of  the  Indian  mind.  When 
we  get  to  Alexandria,  I  will  take  you  to  the  corner  of  the 
street  where  you  can  hear  it  from  the  daughter  of  the 
Ganga,  who  taught  it  to  me.  Kapila,  you  should  know, 
was  one  of  the  most  revered  of  the  Hindoo  sages." 

Then,  as  if  it  were  a  natural  mode  of  expression,  she  be 
gan  the  song. 

KAPILA. 

I. 

"  Kapila,  Kapila,  so  young  and  true, 

I  yearn  for  a  glory  like  thine, 
And  hail  thee  from  battle  to  ask  anew, 
Can  ever  thy  Valor  be  mine  ? 

"  Kapila  sat  on  his  charger  dun, 

A  hero  never  so  grave : 
'Who  loveth  all  things  hath  fear  of  none, 
'Tis  love  that  makcth  me  brave. 


304  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

A  woman  gave  me  her  soul  one  day, 
The  soul  of  my  soul  to  be  alway; 

Thence  came  my  Valor  to  me, 

Go  try  it — try  it — and  see.' 

II. 

"  Kapila,  Kapila,  so  old  and  gray, 
The  queen  is  calling  for  me  ; 
But  ere  I  go  hence,  I  wish  thou  wouldst  say, 
How  Wisdom  first  came  to  thee. 

"  Kapila  stood  in  his  temple  door, 

A  priest  in  eremite  guise : 
'  It  did  not  come  as  men  get  their  lore, 

'Tis  faith  that  maketh  me  wise. 
A  woman  gave  me  her  heart  one  duy, 
The  heart  of  my  heart  to  be  alway; 

Thence  came  my  Wisdom  to  me, 

Go  try  it — try  it — and  see.'  " 

Bcn-Hur  had  not  time  to  express  his  thanks  for  the 
song  before  the  keel  of  the  boat  grated  upon  the  underly 
ing  sand,  and,  next  moment,  the  bow  ran  upon  the  shore. 

"  A  quick  voyage,  O  Egypt !"  he  cried. 

"  And  a  briefer  stay !"  she  replied,  as,  with  a  strong 
push,  the  black  sent  them  shooting  into  the  open  water 
again. 

"  You  will  give  me  the  rudder  now." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  she,  laughing.  "  To  you,  the  chariot ; 
to  me,  the  boat.  AVe  are  merely  at  the  lake's  end,  and  the 
lesson  is  that  I  must  not  sing  any  more.  Having  been  to 
Egypt,  let  us  now  to  the  Grove  of  Daphne." 

"  Without  a  song  on  the  way  ?"  he  said,  in  deprecation. 

"  Tell  me  something  of  the  Roman  from  whom  you 
saved  us  to-day,"  she  asked. 

The  request  struck  Ben-Hur  unpleasantly. 

"  I  wish  this  were  the  Nile,"  he  said,  evasively.  "  The 
kings  and  queens,  having  slept  so  long,  might  come  down 
from  their  tombs,  and  ride  with  us." 

"  They  were  of  the  colossi,  and  would  sink  our  boat. 
The  pygmies  would  be  preferable.  But  tell  me  of  the 
Roman.  He  is  very  wicked,  is  he  not  ?" 

"  I  cannot  say." 


BEX-HUB:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  305 

"  Is  he  of  noble  family,  and  rich  ?" 
"  I  cannot  speak  of  his  riches." 

"  How  beautiful  his  horses  were  !  and  the  bed  of  his 
chariot  was  gold,  and  the  wheels  ivory.     And  his  audacity  ! 
The  bystanders  laughed  as  he  rode  away  ;  they,  who  were 
so  nearly  under  his  wheels  !" 
She  laughed  at  the  recollection. 
"  They  were  rabble,"  said  Ben-IIur,  bitterly. 
"  He  must  be  one  of  the  monsters  who  are  said  to  be 
growing  up   in  Rome  —  Apollos   ravenous  as  Cerberus. 
Does  he  reside  in  Antioch  ?" 

"  He  is  of  the  East  somewhere." 
"  Egypt  would  suit  him  better  than  Syria." 
"  Hardly,"  Ben-Hur  replied.     "  Cleopatra  is  dead." 
That  instant  the  lamps  burning  before  the  door  of  the 
tent  came  into  view. 

"  The  dowar  !"  she  cried. 

"  Ah,  then,  we  have  not  been  to  Egy"pt.  I  have  not 
seen  Karnak  or  Phila3  or  Abydos.  This  is  not  the  Nile. 
I  have  but  heard  a  song  of  India,  and  been  boating  in  a 
dream." 

"  1'hilaB  —  Karnak.  Mourn  rather  that  you  have  not 
seen  the  Rameses  at  Aboo  Simbel,  looking  at  which  makes 
it  so  easy  to  think  of  God,  the  maker  of  the  heavens*and 
earth.  Or  why  should  you  mourn  at  all  ?  Let  us  go  on 
to  the  river  ;  and  if  I  cannot  sing  " — she  laughed  —  "  be 
cause  I  have  said  I  would  not,  yet  I  can  tell  you  stories  of 
Egypt." 

"  Go  on  !  Ay,  till  morning  comes,  and  the  evening,  and 
the  next  morning  !"  he  said,  vehemently. 

"  Of  what  shall  my  stories  be  ?  Of  the  mathemati 
cians  ?" 

Oh,  no." 

Of  the  philosophers  ?" 
No,  no." 

Of  the  magicians  and  genii  I" 
'  If  you  will." 
Of  war  ?" 
Yes.'; 
Of  love  2" 
20 


306  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  cure  for  love.  It  is  the  story  of  a 
queen.  Listen  reverently.  The  papyrus  from  which  it 
was  taken  by  the  priests  of  Philae  was  wrested  from  the 
hand  of  the  heroine  herself.  It  is  correct  in  form,  and 
must  be  true : 

NE-NE-UOFRA. 

I. 

"  There  is  no  parallelism  in  human  lives. 

"No  life  runs  a  straight  line. 

"  The  most  perfect  life  develops  as  a  circle,  and  terminates  in  its  be 
ginning,  making  it  impossible  to  say,  This  is  the  commencement,  that 
the  end. 

"  Perfect  lives  are  the  treasures  of  God ;  of  great  days  he  wears 
them  on  the  ring-finger  of  his  heart  hand." 

II. 

"Ne-ne-hofra  dwelt  in  a  house  close  by  Essouan,  yet  closer  to  the 
first  cataract — so  close,  indeed,  that  the  sound  of  the  eternal  battle 
waged  there  between  river  and  rocks  was  of  the  place  a  part. 

"  She  grew  in  beauty  day  by  day,  so  that  it  was  said  of  her,  as  of  the 
poppies  in  her  father's  garden,  What  will  she  not  be  in  the  time  of 
blooming? 

"Each  year  of  her  life  was  the  beginning  of  a  new  song  more  de 
lightful  than  any  of  those  which  went  before. 

"  Child  was  she  of  a  marriage  between  the  North,  bounded  by  the 
sea,  and  the  South,  bounded  by  the  desert  beyond  the  Luna  mountains ; 
and  one  gave  her  its  passion,  the  other  its  genius ;  so  when  they  beheld 
her,  both  laughed,  saying,  not  meanly,  'She  is  mine,'  but  generously, 
'  Ha,  ha  !  she  is  ours.' 

"All  excellences  in  nature  contributed  to  her  perfection  and  rejoiced 
in  her  presence.  Did  she  come  or  go,  the  birds  ruffled  their  wings  in 
greeting;  the  unruly  winds  sank  to  cooling  zephyrs;  the  white  lotus 
rose  from  the  water's  depth  to  look  at  her;  the  solemn  river  loitered 
on  its  way;  the  palm-trees,  nodding,  shook  all  their  plumes;  and  they 
seemed  to  say,  this  one,  I  gave  her  of  my  grace ;  that,  I  gave  her  of 
my  brightness ;  the  other,  I  gave  her  of  my  purity :  and  so  each  as  it 
had  a  virtue  to  give. 

"At  twelve,  Ne-ne-hofra  was  the  delight  of  Essouan  ;  at  sixteen,  the 
fame  of  her  beauty  was  universal;  at  twenty,  there  was  never  a  day 
which  did  not  bring  to  her  door  princes  of  the  desert  on  swift  camels, 
and  lords  of  Egypt  in  gilded  barges ;  and,  going  away  disconsolate, 
they  reported  everywhere, '  I  have  seen  her,  and  she  is  not  a  woman, 
but  Athor  herself.' " 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  307 


III. 

"  Now  of  the  three  hundred  and  thirty  successors  of  good  King 
Menes,  eighteen  were  Ethiopians,  of  whom  Orates  was  one  hundred 
and  ten  years  old.  He  had  reigned  seventy-six  years.  Under  him  the 
people  thrived,  and  the  land  groaned  with  fatness  of  plenty.  He  prac 
tised  wisdom  because,  having  seen  so  much,  he  knew  what  it  was.  He 
dwelt  in  Memphis,  having  there  his  principal  palace,  his  arsenals,  and 
his  treasure-house.  Frequently  he  went  down  to  Butos  to  talk  with 
Latona. 

"The  wife  of  the  good  king  died.  Too  old  was  she  for  perfect  em 
balmment  ;  yet  he  loved  her,  and  mourned  as  the  inconsolable ;  seeing 
which,  a  colchyte  presumed  one  day  to  speak  to  him. 

"  '  0  Orates,  I  am  astonished  that  one  so  wise  and  great  should  not 
know  how  to  cure  a  sorrow  like  this.' 

"  'Tell  me  a  cure,'  said  the  king. 

"  Three  times  the  colchyte  kissed  the  floor,  and  then  he  replied, 
knowing  the  dead  could  not  hear  him,  '  At  Essouan  lives  Ne-ne-hofra, 
beautiful  as  Athor  the  beautiful.  Send  for  her.  She  has  refused  all 
the  lords  and  princes,  and  I  know  not  how  many  kings;  but  who  can 
say  no  to  Orates  ?'  " 

IV. 

"  Ne-ne-hofra  descended  the  Nile  in  a  barge  richer  than  any  ever 
before  seen,  attended  by  an  army  in  barges  each  but  a  little  less  fine. 
-All  Nubia  and  Egypt,  and  a  myriad  from  Libya,  and  a  host  of  Troglo- 
ilytes,  and  not  a  few  Macrobii  from  beyond  the  Mountains  of  the  Moon, 
lined  the  tented  shores  to  see  the  cort6ge  pass,  wafted  by  perfumed 
uinds  and  golden  oars. 

"  Through  a  dromos  of  sphinxes  and  couchant  double-winged  lions 
she  was  borne,  and  set  down  before  Orates  sitting  on  a  throne  specially 
erected  at  the  sculptured  pylon  of  the  palace.  He  raised  her  up,  gave 
her  place  by  his  side,  clasped  the  uraus  upon  her  arm,  kissed  her,  and 
Ne-ne-hofra  was  queen  of  all  queens. 

"  That  was  not  enough  for  the  wise  Orates ;  he  wanted  love,  and  a 
queen  happy  in  his  love.  So  he  dealt  with  her  tenderly,  showing  her 
his  possessions,  cities,  palaces, people ;  his  armies, his  ships:  and  with 
his  own  hand  he  led  her  through  his  treasure-house,  saying,  '0  Nc-ne- 
hof  ra  !  but  kiss  me  in  love,  and  they  are  all  thine.' 

"And,  thinking  she  could  be  happy,  if  she  was  not  then,  she  kissed 
him  once,  twice,  thrice — kissed  him  thrice,  his  hundred  and  ten  years 
notwithstanding. 

"  The  first  year  she  was  happy,  and  it  was  very  short ;  the  third  year 
she  was  wretched,  and  it  was  very  long;  then  she  was  enlightened: 
that  which  she  thought  love  of  Orates  was  only  daze  of  his  power. 
Well  for  her  had  the  daze  endured !  Her  spirits  deserted  her ;  she 
had  long  spells  of  tears,  and  her  women  could  not  remember  when 
they  heard  her  laugh ;  of  the  roses  on  her  cheeks  only  ashes  remained  ; 
she  languished  and  faded  gradually,  but  certainly.  Some  said  she  was 


308  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

haunted  by  the  Erinnyes  for  cruelty  to  a  lover;  others,  that  she  was 
stricken  by  some  god  envious  of  Orates.  Whatever  the  cause  of  her 
decline,  the  charms  of  the  magicians  availed  not  to  restore  her,  and  the 
prescript  of  the  doctor  was  equally  without  virtue.  Nc-ne-hofra  was 
given  over  to  die. 

"  Orates  chose  a  crypt  for  her  up  in  the  tombs  of  the  queens  ;  and, 
calling  the  master  sculptors  and  painters  to  Memphis,  he  set  them  to 
work  upon  designs  more  elaborate  than  any  even  in  the  great  galleries 
of  the  dead  kings. 

" '  0  thou  beautiful  as  Athor  herself,  my  queen  !'  said  the  king,  whose 
hundred  and  thirteen  years  did  not  lessen  his  ardor  as  a  lover,  'Tell 
me,  I  pray,  the  ailment  of  which,  alas  !  thou  art  so  certainly  perishing 
before  my  eyes.' 

" '  You  will  not  love  me  any  more  if  I  tell  you,'  she  said,  in  doubt 
and  fear. 

"  '  Not  love  you !  I  will  love  you  the  more.  I  swear  it,  by  the  genii 
of  Amente  !  by  the  eye  of  Osiris,  I  swear  it !  Speak !'  he  cried,  pas 
sionate  as  a  lover,  authoritative  as  a  king. 

'"Hear,  then,'  she  said.  '  There  is  an  anchorite,  the  oldest  and  ho 
liest  of  his  class,  in  a  cave  near  Essouan.  His  name  is  Menopha.  He 
was  my  teacher  and  guardian.  Send  for  him,  0  Orates,  and  he  will 
tell  you  that  you  seek  to  know ;  he  will  also  help  you  find  the  cure  for 
my  affliction.' 

"Orates  arose  rejoicing.  He  went  away  in  spirit  a  hundred  years 
younger  than  when  he  came." 

V. 

"  'Speak  !'  said  Orsetes  to  Menopha,  in  the  palace  at  Memphis. 

"And  Menopha  replied,  'Most  mighty  king,  if  you  were  young,  I 
should  not  answer,  because  I  am  yet  pleased  with  life;  as  it  is,  I  will 
say  the  queen,  like  any  other  mortal,  is  paying  the  penalty  of  a  crime.' 

" '  A  crime !'  exclaimed  Orates,  angrily. 

"  Menopha  bowed  very  low. 

" '  Yes ;  to  herself.' 

"  '  I  am  not  in  mood  for  riddles,'  said  the  king. 

"  '  What  I  say  is  not  a  riddle,  as  you  shall  hear.     Xe-ne-hof ra  grew 
up  under  my  eyes,  and  confided  every  incident  of  her  life  to  me ; 
among  others,  that  she  loved  the  son  of  her  father's  gardener,  Barbec 
by  name.' 
"  "  Orates's  frown,  strangely  enough,  began  to  dissipate. 

"  '  With  that  love  in  her  heart,  0  king,  she  came  to  you ;  of  that  love 
she  is  dying.' 

"  '  Where  is  the  gardener's  son  now  ?'  asked  Oractes. 

" '  In  Essouan.' 

"The  king  went  cut  and  gave  two  orders.  To  one  oeris  he  said, 
'  Go  to  Essouan  and  bring  hither  a  youth  named  Barbec.  You  will 
find  him  in  the  garden  of  the  queen's  father;'  to  another,  'Assemble 
workmen  and  cattle  and  tools,  and  construct  for  me  in  Lake  Chemmis 
an  island,  which,  though  laden  with  a  temple,  a  palace,  and  a  garden, 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  309 

and  all  manner  of  trees  bearing  fruit,  and  all  manner  of  vines,  shall 
nevertheless  float  about  as  the  winds  may  blow  it.  Make  the  island, 
and  let  it  be  fully  furnished  by  the  time  the  moon  begins  to  wane.' 

"  Then  to  the  queen  he  said, 

" '  Be  of  cheer.     I  know  all,  and  have  sent  for  Barbcc.' 

"  Ne-ne-hofra  kissed  his  hands. 

" '  You  shall  have  him  to  yourself,  and  he  you  to  himself;  nor  shall 
any  disturb  your  loves  for  a  year.' 

"  She  kissed  his  feet ;  he  raised  her,  and  kissed  her  in  return  ;  and 
the  rose  came  back  to  her  cheek,  the  scarlet  to  her  lips,  and  the  laugh 
ter  to  her  heart." 

VI. 

"  For  one  year  Ne-ne-hofra  and  Barbec  the  gardener  floated  as  tho 
winds  blew  on  the  island  of  Chemmis,  which  became  one  of  the  won 
ders  of  the  world ;  never  a  home  of  love  more  beautiful  ;  one  year, 
seeing  no  one  and  existing  for  no  one  but  themselves.  Then  she  re 
turned  in  state  to  the  palace  in  Memphis. 

"  '  Now  whom  lovest  thou  best  ?'  asked  the  king. 

"  She  kissed  his  check  and  said, '  Take  me  back,  0  good  king,  for  I 
am  cured.' 

"  Onetes  laughed,  none  the  worse,  that  moment,  of  his  hundred  and 
fourteen  years. 

" '  Then  it  is  true,  as  Menopha  said :  ha,  ha,  ha !  it  is  true,  the  cure 
of  love  is  love.' 

"  '  Even  so,'  she  replied. 

"  Suddenly  his  manner  changed,  and  his  look  became  terrible. 

"  '  I  did  not  find  it  so,'  he  said. 

"She  shrank  affrighted. 

" '  Thou  guilty !"  he  continued.  '  Thy  offence  to  Orates  the  man  he 
forgives ;  but  thy  offence  to  Oractes  the  king  remains  to  be  punished.' 

"She  cast  herself  at  his  feet. 

"  '  Hush  !'  he  cried.     '  Thou  art  dead  !' 

"  He  clapped  his  hands,  and  a  terrible  procession  came  in — a  pro 
cession  of  parachistcs,  or  embalmers,  each  with  some  implement  or 
material  of  his  loathsome  art. 

"The  king  pointed  to  Ne-ne-hofra. 

"  '  She  is  dead.     Do  thy  work  well.'  " 

VII. 

"  Ne-ne-hofra  the  beautiful,  after  seventy-two  days,  was  carried  to 
the  crypt  chosen  for  her  the  year  before,  and  laid  with  her  queenly 
predecessors ;  yet  there  was  no  funeral  procession  in  her  honor  across 
the  sacred  lake." 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  story,  Bcn-IIur  was  sitting  at 
the  Egyptian's  feet,  and  her  hand  upon  the  tiller  was  cov 
ered  by  his  hand. 


310  BEN-HUB:    A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

'  Menoplia  was  wrong,"  he  said. 
'  How  ?" 

'  Love  lives  by  loving." 
'  Then  there  is  no  cure  for  it  ?" 
'  Yes.     Orsetes  found  the  cure." 
'  What  was  it  ?" 
'  Death." 

'  You  are  a  good  listener,  O  son  of  Arrius." 
And  so  with  conversation  and  stories,  they  whiled  the 
hours  away.     As  they  stepped  ashore,  she  said, 
"  To-morrow  we  go  to  the  city." 
"But  you  will  be  at  the  games?"  he  asked. 
"  Oh  yes." 

"  I  will  send  you  my  colors." 
"With  that  they  separated. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ILDERIM  returned  to  the  dowar  next  day  about  the  third 
hour.  As  he  dismounted,  a  man  whom  he  recognized  as 
of  his  own  tribe  came  to  him  and  said,  "  O  sheik,  I  was 
bidden  give  thee  this  package,  with  request  that  thou  read 
it  at  once.  If  there  be  answer,  I  was  to  wait  thy  pleas- 
ure." 

Ilderim  gave  the  package  immediate  attention.  The 
seal  was  already  broken.  The  address  ran,  To  Valerius 
Gratus  at  Ccesarea. 

"  Abaddon  take  him  !"  growled  the  sheik,  at  discovering 
a  letter  in  Latin. 

Had  the  missive  been  in  Greek  or  Arabic,  he  could  have 
read  it ;  as  it  was,  the  utmost  he  could  make  out  was  the 
signature  in  bold  Roman  letters — MESSALA — whereat  his 
eyes  twinkled. 
i     "  Where  is  the  young  Jew  ?"  he  asked. 

"  In  the  field  with  the  horses,"  a  servant  replied. 

The  sheik  replaced  the  papyrus  in  its  envelopes,  and, 
tucking  the  package  under  his  girdle,  remounted  the  horse. 
That  moment  a  stranger  made  his  appearance,  coming,  ap 
parently,  from  the  city. 


BEX-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  31 1 

"  I  am  looking  for  Sheik  Ilderim,  surnamed  the  Gener 
ous,"  the  stranger  said. 

His  language  and  attire  bespoke  him  a  Roman. 

What  he  could  not  read,  he  yet  could  speak ;  so  the  old 
Arab  answered,  with  dignity,  "  I  am  Sheik  Ilderim." 

The  man's  eyes  fell ;  he  raised  them  again,  and  said, 
with  forced  composure,  "  I  heard  you  had  need  of  a  driver 
for  the  games." 

Ilderim's  lip  under  the  white  mustache  curled  contempt 
uously. 

"  Go  thy  way,"  he  said.     "  I  have  a  driver." 

He  turned  to  ride  away,  but  the  man,  lingering,  spoke 
again. 

"  Sheik,  I  am  a  lover  of  horses,  and  they  say  you  have 
the  most  beautiful  in  the  world." 

The  old  man  was  touched ;  he  drew  rein,  as  if  on  the 
point  of  yielding  to  the  flattery,  but  finally  replied,  "  Not 
to-day,  not  to-day ;  some  other  time  I  will  show  them  to 
you.  I  am  too  busy  just  now." 

He  rode  to  the  field,  while  the  stranger  betook  himself 
to  town  again  with  a  smiling  countenance.  He  had  ac 
complished  his  mission. 

And  every  day  thereafter,  down  to  the  great  day  of  the 
games,  a  man — sometimes  two  or  three  men — came  to  the 
sheik  at  the  Orchard,  pretending  to  seek  an  engagement  as 
driver. 

In  such  manner  Messala  kept  watch  over  Ben-Hur. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  sheik  waited,  well  satisfied,  until  Ben-IIur  drew  his 
horses  off  the  field  for  the  forenoon — well  satisfied,  for  he 
had  seen  them,  after  being  put  through  all  the  other  paces, 
run  full  speed  in  such  manner  that  it  did  not  seem  there 
were  one  the  slowest  and  another  the  fastest — run,  in 
other  words,  as  if  the  four  were  one. 

"  This  afternoon,  0  sheik,  I  will  give  Sirius  back  to  you." 
Ben-Hur  patted  the  neck  of  the  old  horse  as  he  spoke. 
"I  will  give  him  back,  and  take  to  the  chariot." 


312  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

"  So  soon  ?"  Ilderim  asked. 

"  With  sucli  as  these,  good  sheik,  one  day  suffices.  They 
are  not  afraid ;  they  have  a  man's  intelligence,  and  they 
love  the  exercise.  This  one,"  he  shook  a  rein  over  the 
back  of  the  youngest  of  the  four — "  you  called  him  Aldeb- 
aran,  I  believe — is  the  swiftest ;  in  once  round  a  stadium 
he  would  lead  the  others  thrice  his  length." 

Ilderim  pulled  his  beard,  and  said,  with  twinkling  eyes, 
"  Aldebaran  is  the  swiftest;  but  what  of  the  slowest?" 

"  This  is  he."  Ben-Hur  shook  the  rein  over  Antares. 
"  This  is  he :  but  he  will  win,  for,  look  you,  sheik,  he  will 
run  his  utmost  all  day — all  day ;  and,  as  the  sun  goes 
down,  he  will  reach  his  swiftest." 

"  Right  again,"  said  Ilderim. 

"  I  have  but  one  fear,  O  sheik." 

The  sheik  became  doubly  serious. 

"  In  his  greed  of  triumph,  a  Roman  cannot  keep  honor 
pure.  In  the  games — all  of  them,  mark  you — their  tricks 
are  infinite  ;  in  chariot-racing  their  knavery  extends  to  ev 
erything — from  horse  to  driver,  from  driver  to  master. 
Wherefore,  good  sheik,  look  well  to  all  thou  hast ;  from 
this  till  the  trial  is  over,  let  no  stranger  so  much  as  see  the 
horses.  Would  you  be  perfectly  safe,  do  more — keep 
watch  over  them  with  armed  hand  as  well  as  sleepless 
eye  ;  then  I  will  have  no  fear  of  the  end." 

At  the  door  of  the  tent  they  dismounted. 

"  WThat  you  say  shall  be  attended  to.  By  the  splendor 
of  God,  no  hand  shall  come  near  them  except  it  belong  to 
one  of  the  faithful.  To-night  I  will  set  watches.  But, 
son  of  Arrius  " — Ilderim  drew  forth  the  package,  and 
opened  it  slowly,  while  they  walked  to  the  divan  and  seat 
ed  themselves — "  son  of  Arrius,  see  thou  here,  and  help 
me  with  thy  Latin." 

He  passed  the  despatch  to  Ben-Hur. 

"  There ;  read — and  read  aloud,  rendering  what  thou  find- 
est  into  the  tongue  of  thy  fathers.  Latin  is  an  abomination." 

Ben-Hur  was  in  good  spirits,  and  b^gan  the  reading  care 
lessly.  "  Messala  to  Grains  /'  "  He  paused.  A  premo 
nition  drove  the  blood  to  his  heart.  Ilderim  observed  his 
agitation. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  313 

"  Well ;  I  am  waiting." 

Ben-IIur  prayed  pardon,  and  recommenced  the  paper, 
which,  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  was  one  of  the  duplicates  of 
the  letter  despatched  so  carefully  to  Gratus  by  Messala  the 
morning  after  the  revel  in  the  palace. 

The  paragraphs  in  the  beginning  were  remarkable  only 
as  proof  that  the  writer  had  not  outgrown  his  habit  of 
mockery ;  when  they  were  passed,  and  the  reader  came  to 
the  parts  intended  to  refresh  the  memory  of  Gratus,  his 
voice  trembled,  and  twice  he  stopped  to  regain  his  self- 
control.  By  a  strong  effort  he  continued.  "  '  I  recall  fur 
ther,'  "  he  read,  "  '  that  thou  didst  make  disposition  of  the 
family  of  Ilur '  " — there  the  reader  again  paused  and  drew 
a  long  breath — " '  both  of  us  at  the  time  supposing  the 
plan  hit  upon  to  be  the  most  effective  possible  for  the  pur 
poses  in  view,  which  were  silence  and  delivery  over  to  in 
evitable  but  natural  death.' " 

Here  Ben-IIur  broke  down  utterly.  The  paper  fell  from 
his  hands,  and  he  covered  his  face. 

"  They  are  dead — dead.     I  alone  am  left." 

The  sheik  had  been  a  silent  but  not  unsympathetic  wit 
ness  of  the  young  man's  suffering ;  now  he  arose  and 
said,  "Son  of  Arrius,  it  is  for  me  to  beg  thy  pardon. 
Read  the  paper  by  thyself.  When  thou  art  strong 
enough  to  give  the  rest  of  it  to  me,  send  word,  and  I  will 
return." 

lie  went  out  of  the  tent,  and  nothing  in  all  his  life  be 
came  him  better. 

Ben-IIur  flung  himself  on  the  divan  and  gave  way  to  his 
feelings.  When  somewhat  recovered,  he  recollected  that 
a  portion  of  the  letter  remained  unread,  and,  taking  it  up, 
he  resumed  the  reading.  "  Thou  wilt  remember,"  the  mis 
sive  ran,  "what  thou  didst 'with  the  mother  and  sister  of 
the  malefactor ;  yet,  if  now  I  yield  to  a  desire  to  learn  if 
they  be  living  or  dead  " — Ben-IIur  started,  and  read  again, 
and  then  again,  and  at  last  broke  into  exclamation.  "  He 
does  not  know  they  are  dead ;  he  does  not  know  it ! 
Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord !  there  is  yet  hope."  He 
finished  the  sentence,  and  was  strengthened  by  it,  and  went 
on  bravely  to  the  end  of  the  letter. 


314  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  They  are  not  dead,"  he  said,  after  reflection  ;  "  they 
are  not  dead,  or  he  would  have  heard  of  it." 

A  second  reading,  more  careful  than  the  first,  confirmed 
him  in  the  opinion.  Then  he  sent  for  the  sheik. 

"  In  coming  to  your  hospitable  tent,  O  sheik,"  he  said, 
calmly,  when  the  Arab  was  seated  and  they  were  alone,  "  it 
was  not  in  my  mind  to  speak  of  myself  further  than  to  as 
sure  you  I  had  sufficient  training  to  be  intrusted  with  your 
horses.  I  declined  to  tell  you  my  history.  But  the 
chances  which  have  sent  this  paper  to  my  hand  and  given 
it  to  me  to  be  read  are  so  strange  that  I  feel  bidden  to 
trust  you  with  everything.  And  I  am  the  more  inclined 
to  do  so  by  knowledge  here  conveyed  that  we  are  both  of 
us  threatened  by  the  same  enemy,  against  whom  it  is  need 
ful  that  we  make  common  cause.  I  will  read  the  letter  and 
give  you  explanation ;  after  which  you  will  not  wonder  I 
was  so  moved.  If  you  thought  me  weak  or  childish,  you 
will  then  excuse  me." 

The  sheik  held  his  peace,  listening  closely,  until  Ben-Hur 
came  to  the  paragraph  in  which  he  was  particularly  men 
tioned  :  " '  I  saw  the  Jew  yesterday  in  the  Grove  of 
Daphne  ;'  "  so  ran  the  part,  "  '  and  if  he  be  not  there  now, 
he  is  certainly  in  the  neighborhood,  making  it  easy  for  me 
to  keep  him  in  eye.  Indeed,  wert  thou  to  ask  me  where 
he  is  now,  I  should  say,  with  the  most  positive  assurance, 
he  is  to  be  found  at  the  old  Orchard  of  Palms.' " 

"A — h !"  exclaimed  Ilderim,  in  such  a  tone  one  might 
hardly  say  he  was  more  surprised  than  angry  ;  at  the  same 
time,  he  clutched  his  beard. 

" '  At  the  old  Orchard  of  Palms,' "  Ben-Hur  repeated, 
"'under  the  tent  of  the  traitor  Sheik  Ilderim.'  " 

"  Traitor ! — I?"  the  old  man  cried,  in  his  shrillest  tone, 
while  lip  and  beard  curled  with  ire,  and  on  his  forehead 
and  neck  the  veius  swelled  and  beat  as  they  would  burst, 

"  Yet  a  moment,  sheik,"  said  Ben-Hur,  with  a  depreca 
tory  gesture.  "  Such  is  Messala's  opinion  of  you.  Hear 
his  threat,"  And  he  read  on — " '  under  the  tent  of  the 
traitor  Sheik  Ilderim,  who  cannot  long  escape  our  strong 
hand.  Be  not  surprised  if  Maxentius,  as  his  first  measure, 
places  the  Arab  on  ship  for  forwarding  to  Rome.'  " 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  315 

"To  Rome!  Me  —  Ilderim  —  sheik  of  ten  thousand 
horsemen  with  spears — me  to  Rome  !" 

He  leaped  rather  than  rose  to  his  feet,  his  arms  out 
stretched,  his  fingers  spread  and  curved  like  claws,  his 
eyes  glittering  like  a  serpent's. 

"  0  God  ! — nay,  by  all  the  gods  except  of  Rome  ! — when 
shall  this  insolence  end  ?  A  freeman  am  I ;  free  are  my 
people.  Must  we  die  slaves  ?  Or,  worse,  must  I  live  a  dog, 
crawling  to  a  master's  feet  ?  Must  I  lick  his  hand  lest  he 
lash  me  ?  What  is  mine  is  not  mine  ;  I  am  not  my  own  ; 
for  breath  of  body  I  must  be  beholden  to  a  Roman.  Oh, 
if  I  were  young  again  !  Oh,  could  I  shake  off  twenty 
years — or  ten — or  five !" 

He  ground  his  teeth  and  shook  his  hands  overhead  ; 
then,  under  the  impulse  of  another  idea,  he  walked  away 
and  back  again  to  Ben-IIur  swiftly,  and  caught  his  shoul 
der  with  a  strong  grasp. 

"  If  I  were  as  thou,  son  of  Arrius — as  young,  as  strong, 
as  practised  in  arms ;  if  I  had  a  motive  hissing  me  to  re 
venge — a  motive,  like  thine,  great  enough  to  make  hate 
holy —  Away  with  disguise  on  thy  part  and  on  mine  ! 
Son  of  Hur,  son  of  Hur,  I  say — " 

*At  that  name  all  the  currents  of  Ben-IIur's  blood 
stopped ;  surprised,  bewildered,  he  gazed  into  the  Arab's 
eyes,  now  close  to  his,  and  fiercely  bright. 

"  Son  of  Ilur,  I  say,  were  I  as  thou,  with  half  thy  wrongs, 
bearing  about  with  me  memories  like  thine,  I  would  not, 
I  could  not,  rest."  Never  pausing,  his  words  following 
each  other  torrent-like,  the  old  man  swept  on.  "  To  all  my 
grievances,  I  would  add  those  of  the  world,  and  devote  my 
self  to  vengeance.  From  land  to  land  I  would  go  firing  all 
mankind.  No  war  for  freedom  but  should  find  me  en 
gaged  ;  no  battle  against  Rome  in  which  I  would  not  bear 
a  part.  I  would  turn  Parthian,  if  I  could  not  better.  If 
men  failed  me,  still  I  would  not  give  over  the  effort — ha, 
ha,  ha !  By  the  splendor  of  God !  I  would  herd  with 
wolves,  and  make  friends  of  lions  and  tigers,  in  hope  of 
marshalling  them  against  the  common  enemy.  I  would 
use  every  weapon.  So- my  victims  were  Romans,  I  would 
rejoice  in  slaughter.  Quarter  I  would  not  ask  ;  quarter  I 


316  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

would  not  give.  To  the  flames  everything  Roman  ;  to  the 
sword  every  Roman  born.  Of  nights  I  would  pray  the  gods, 
the  good  and  the  bad  alike,  to  lend  me  their  special  terrors 
— tempests,  drought,  heat,  cold,  and  all  the  nameless  poisons 
they  let  loose  in  air,  all  the  thousand  things  of  which  men 
die  on  sea  and  on  land.  Oh,  I  could  not  sleep.  I — I — " 

The  sheik  stopped  for  want  of  breath,  panting,  wringing 
his  hands.  And,  sooth  to  say,  of  all  the  passionate  burst 
Ben-llur  retained  but  a  vague  impression  wrought  by  fiery 
eyes,  a  piercing  voice,  and  a  rage  too  intense  for  coherent 
expression. 

For  the  first  time  in  years,  the  desolate  youth  heard  him 
self  addressed  by  his  proper  name.  One  man  at  least 
knew  him,  and  acknowledged  it  without  demand  of  iden 
tity  ;  and  he  an  Arab  fresh  from  the  desert ! 

How  came  the  man  by  his  knowledge  ?  The  letter  ? 
No.  It  told  the  cruelties  from  which  his  family  had  suf 
fered  ;  it  told  the  story  of  his  own  misfortunes,  but  it  did  not 
say  he  was  the  very  victim  whose  escape  from  doom  was 
the  theme  of  the  heartless  narrative.  That  was  the  point 
of  explanation  he  had  notified  the  sheik  would  follow  the 
reading  of  the  letter.  He  was  pleased,  and  thrilled  with 
hope  restored,  yet  kept  an  air  of  calmness. 

"Good  sheik,  tell  me  how  you  came  by  this  letter." 

"  My  people  keep  the  roads  between  cities,"  Ilderim  an 
swered,  bluntly.  "  They  took  it  from  a  courier." 

"  Are  they  known  to  be  thy  people  ?" 

"  No.  To  the  world  they  are  robbers,  whom  it  is  mine 
to  catch  and  slay." 

"  Again,  sheik.  You  call  me  son  of  Hur — my  father's 
name.  I  did  not  think  myself  known  to  a  person  on  earth. 
How  came  you  by  the  knowledge  ?" 

Ilderim  hesitated ;  but,  rallying,  he  answered,  "  I  know 
you,  yet  I  am  not  free  to  tell  you  more." 

"  Some  one  holds  you  in  restraint  ?" 

The  sheik  closed  his  mouth,  and  walked  away  ;  but,  ob 
serving  Ben-IIur's  disappointment,  he  came  back,  and  said, 
"  Let  us  say  no  more  about  the  matter  now.  I  will  go  to 
town ;  when  I  return,  I  may  talk  to  you  fully.  Give  me 
the  letter." 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  317 

Ilderim  rolled  the  papyrus  carefully,  restored  it  to  its  en 
velopes,  and  became  once  more  all  energy. 

"  What  sayest  thou  ?"  lie  asked,  while  waiting  for  his 
horse  and  retinue.  "  I  told  what  I  would  do,  were  I  thou, 
and  thou  hast  made  no  answer." 

"  I  intended  to  answer,  sheik,  and  I  will."  Ben-IIur's 
countenance  and  voice  changed  with  the  feeling  invoked. 
"  All  thou  hast  said,  I  will  do — all  at  least  in  the  power  of 
a  man.  I  devoted  myself  to  vengeance  long  ago.  Every 
hour  of  the  five  years  passed  I  have  lived  with  no  other 
thought.  I  have  taken  no  respite.  I  have  had  no  pleasures 
of  youth.  The  blandishments  of  Rome  were  not  for  me. 
I  wanted  her  to  educate  me  for  revenge.  I  resorted  to  her 
most  famous  masters  and  professors — not  those  of  rhetoric 
or  philosophy  :  alas  !  I  had  no  time  for  them.  The  arts 
essential  to  a  fighting-man  were  my  desire.  I  associated 
with  gladiators,  and  with  winners  of  prizes  in  the  Circus  ; 
and  they  were  my  teachers.  The  drill-masters  in  the  great 
camp  accepted  me  as  a  scholar,  and  were  proud  of  my  at 
tainments  in  their  line.  O  sheik,  I  am  a  soldier  ;  but  the 
things  of  which  I  dream  require  me  to  be  a  captain.  With 
that  thought,  I  have  taken  part  in  the  campaign  against  the 
Parthians ;  when  it  is  over,  then,  if  the  Lord  spare  my  life 
and  strength — then" — he  raised  his  clenched  hands,  and 
spoke  vehemently — "  then  I  will  be  an  enemy  Roman- 
taught  in  all  things ;  then  Rome  shall  account  to  me  in 
Roman  lives  for  her  ills.  You  have  my  answer,  sheik." 

Ilderim  put  an  arm  over  his  shoulder,  and  kissed  him, 
saying,  passionately,  "  If  thy  God  favor  thee  not,  son  of 
Hur,  it  is  because  he  is  dead.  Take  thou  this  from  me — 
sworn  to,  if  so  thy  preference  run :  thou  shalt  have  my 
hands,  and  their  fulness — men,  horses,  camels,  and  the  des 
ert  for  preparation.  I  swrear  it !  For  the  present,  enough. 
Thou  shalt  see  or  hear  from  me  before  night." 

Turning  abruptly  off,  the  sheik  was  speedily  on  the  road 
to  the  city. 


318  BEN-HUB:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  intercepted  letter  was  conclusive  upon  a  number  of 
points  of  great  interest  to  Ben-Hur.  It  had  all  the  effect 
of  a  confession  that  the  writer  was  a  party  to  the  putting- 
away  of  the  family  with  murderous  intent ;  that  he  had 
sanctioned  the  plan  adopted  for  the  purpose  ;  that  he  had 
received  a  portion  of  the  proceeds  of  the  confiscation,  and 
was  yet  in  enjoyment  of  his  part ;  that  he  dreaded  the  un 
expected  appearance  of  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  the 
chief  malefactor,  and  accepted  it  as  a  menace  ;  that  he  con 
templated  such  further  action  as  would  secure  him  in  the 
future,  and  was  ready  to  do  whatever  his  accomplice  in 
Caesarea  might  advise. 

And,  now  that  the  letter  had  reached  the  hand  of  him 
really  its  subject,  it  was  notice  of  danger  to  come,  as  well 
as  a  confession  of  guilt.  So  when  Ilderim  left  the  tent, 
Ben-llur  had  much  to  think  about,  requiring  immediate 
action.  His  enemies  were  as  adroit  and  powerful  as  any 
in  the  East.  If  they  were  afraid  of  him,  he  had  greater 
reason  to  be  afraid  of  them.  He  strove  earnestly  to  reflect 
upon  the  situation,  but  could  not ;  his  feelings  constantly 
overwhelmed  him.  There  was  a  certain  qualified  pleasure 
in  the  assurance  that  his  mother  and  sister  were  alive  ;  and 
it  mattered  little  that  the  foundation  of  the  assurance  was 
a  mere  inference.  That  there  was  one  person  who  could 
tell  him  where  they  were  seemed  to  his  hope  so  long  de 
ferred  as  if  discovery  were  now  close  at  hand.  These  were 
mere  causes  of  feeling ;  underlying  them,  it  must  be  con 
fessed  he  had  a  superstitious  fancy  that  God  was  about  to 
make  ordination  in  his  behalf,  in  which  event  faith  whis 
pered  him  to  stand  still. 

Occasionally,  referring  to  the  words  of  Ilderim,  he  won 
dered  whence  the  Arab  derived  his  information  about  him  ; 
not  from  Malluch  certainly  ;  nor  from  Simonides,  whose  in 
terests,  all  adverse,  would  hold  him  dumb.  Could  Mcssula 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  319 

have  been  the  informant  ?  No,  no :  disclosure  might  be 
dangerous  in  that  quarter.  Conjecture  was  vain ;  at  the 
same  time,  often  as  Ben-Hur  was  beaten  back  from  the  solu 
tion,  he  was  consoled  with  the  thought  that  whoever  the 
person  with  the  knowledge  might  be,  he  was  a  friend,  and, 
being  such,  would  reveal  himself  in  good  time.  A  little 
more  waiting — a  little  more  patience.  Possibly  the  errand 
of  the  sheik  was  to  see  the  worthy ;  possibly  the  letter 
might  precipitate  a  full  disclosure. 

And  patient  he  would  have  been  if  only  he  could  have 
believed  Tirzah  and  his  mother  were  waiting  for  him  un 
der  circumstances  permitting  hope  on  their  part  strong  as 
his  ;  if,  in  other  words,  conscience  had  not  stung  him  with 
accusations  respecting  them. 

To  escape  such  accusations,  he  wandered  far  through  the 
Orchard,  pausing  now  where  the  date-gatherers  were  busy, 
yet  not  too  busy  to  offer  him  of  their  fruit  and  talk  with 
him  ;  then,  under  the  great  trees,  to  watch  the  nesting 
birds,  or  hear  the  bees  swarming  about  the  berries  burst 
ing  with  honeyed  sweetness,  and  filling  all  the  green  and 
golden  spaces  with  the  music  of  their  beating  wings. 

By  the  lake,  however,  he  lingered  longest.  He  might 
not  look  upon  the  water  and  its  sparkling  ripples,  so  like 
sensuous  life,  without  thinking  of  the  Egyptian  and  her 
marvellous  beauty,  and  of  floating  with  her  here  and  there 
through  the  night,  made  brilliant  by  her  songs  and  stories  ; 
he  might  not  forget  the  charm  of  her  manner,  the  lightness 
of  her  laugh,  the  flattery  of  her  attention,  the  warmth  of 
her  little  hand  under  his  i:pon  the  tiller  of  the  boat.  From 
her  it  was  for  his  thought  but  a  short  way  to  Balthasar, 
and  the  strange  things  of  which  he  had  been  witness,  un 
accountable  by  any  law  of  nature  ;  and  from  him,  again,  to 
the  King  of  the  Jews,  whom  the  good  man,  with  such  pathos 
of  patience,  was  holding  in  holy  promise,  the  distance  was 
even  nearer.  And  there  his  mind  stayed,  finding  in  the 
mysteries  of  that  personage  a  satisfaction  answering  well 
for  the  rest  he  was  seeking.  Because,  it  may  have  been, 
nothing  is  so  easy  as  denial  of  an  idea  not  agreeable  to  our 
wishes^he  rejected  the  definition  given  by  Balthasar  of  the 
kingdom  the  king  was  coming  to  establish.  A  kingdom 


320  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

of  souls,  if  not  intolerable  to  his  Sadducean  faith,  seemed 
to  him  but  an  abstraction  drawn  from  the  depths  of  a  de 
votion  too  fond  and  dreamy.  A  kingdom  of  Judea,  on 
the  other  hand,  was  more  than  comprehensible  :  sucli  had 
been,  and,  if  only  for  that  reason,  might  be  again.  And  it 
suited  his  pride  to  think  of  a  new  kingdom  broader  of  do 
main,  richer  in  power,  and  of  a  more  unapproachable  splen 
dor  than  the  old  one ;  of  a  new  king  wiser  and  mightier 
than  Solomon — a  new  king  under  whom,  especially,  he 
could  find  both  service  and  revenge.  In  that  mood  he  re 
turned  to  the  dowar. 

The  mid-day  meal  disposed  of,  still  further  to  occupy 
himself,  Ben-llur  held  the  chariot  rolled  out  into  the  sun 
light  for  inspection.  The  word  but  poorly  conveys  the 
careful  study  the  vehicle  underwent.  Xo  point  or  part  of 
it  escaped  him.  With  a  pleasure  which  will  be  better  un 
derstood  hereafter,  he  saw  the  pattern  was  Greek,  in  his 
judgment  preferable  to  the  Roman  in  many  respects ;  it 
was  wider  between  the  wheels,  and  lower  and  stronger, 
and  the  disadvantage  of  greater  weight  would  be  more 
than  compensated  by  the  greater  endurance  of  his  Arabs. 
Speaking  generally,  the  carriage-makers  of  Rome  built  for 
the  games  almost  solely,  sacrificing  safety  to  beauty,  and 
durability  to  grace ;  while  the  chariots  of  Achilles  and 
"  the  king  of  men,"  designed  for  war  and  all  its  extreme 
tests,  still  ruled  the  tastes  of  those  who  met  and  struggled 
for  the  crowns  Isthmian  and  Olympic. 

Next  he  brought  the  horses,  and,  hitching  them  to  the 
chariot,  drove  to  the  field  of  exercise,  where,  hour  after 
hour,  he  practised  them  in  movement  under  the  yoke. 
AVhen  he  came  away  in  the  evening,  it  was  with  restored 
spirit,  and  a  fixed  purpose  to  defer  action  in  the  matter  of 
Messala  until  the  race  was  won  or  lost.  He  could  not  fore 
go  the  pleasure  of  meeting  his  adversary  under  the  eyes 
of  the  East ;  that  there  might  be  other  competitors  seemed 
not  to  enter  his  thought.  His  confidence  in  the  result  was 
absolute  ;  no  doubt  of  his  own  skill ;  and  as  to  the  four, 
they  were  his  full  partners  in  the  glorious  game. 

"  Let  him  look  to  it,  let  him  look  to  it !  Ha,  Antares — 
Aldebaran !  Shall  he  not,  O  honest  Rigel  ?  And  thou, 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  321 

Atair,  king  among  coursers,  shall  he  not  beware  of  us  ? 
Ha,  ha  !  good  hearts  !" 

So  in  rests  he  passed  from  horse  to  horse,  speaking,  not 
as  a  master,  but  the  senior  of  as  many  brethren. 

After  nightfall,  Ben-IIur  sat  by  the  door  of  the  tent 
waiting  for  Ilderim,  not  yet  returned  from  the  city,  lie 
was  not  impatient,  or  vexed,  or  doubtful.  The  sheik  would 
be  heard  from,  at  least.  Indeed,  whether  it  was  from  sat 
isfaction  with  the  performance  of  the  four,  or  the  refresh 
ment  there  is  in  cold  water  succeeding  bodily  exercise,  or 
supper  partaken  with  royal  appetite,  or  the  reaction  which, 
as  a  kindly  provision  of  nature,  always  follows  depression, 
the  young  man  was  in  good-humor  verging  upon  elation. 
He  felt  himself  in  the  hands  of  Providence  no  longer  his 
enemy.  At  last  there  was  a  sound  of  horse's  feet  coming 
rapidly,  and  Malluch  rode  up. 

"  Son  of  Arrius,"  he  said,  cheerily,  after  salutation,  "  I 
salute  you  for  Sheik  Ilderim,  who  requests  you  to  mount 
and  go  to  the  city.  He  is  waiting  for  you." 

Ben-Hur  asked  no  questions,  but  went  in  where  the 
horses  were  feeding.  Aldebaran  came  to  him,  as  if  offer 
ing  his  service.  lie  played  with  him  lovingly,  but  passed 
on,  and  chose  another,  not  of  the  four — they  were  sacred 
to  the  race.  Very  shortly  the  two  were  on  the  road,  going 
swiftly  and  in  silence. 

Some  distance  below  the  Seleucian  Bridge,  they  crossed 
the  river  by  a  ferry,  and,  riding  far  round  on  the  right  bank, 
and  recrossing  by  another  ferry,  entered  the  city  from  the 
west.  The  detour  was  long,  but  Ben-IIur  accepted  it  as  a 
precaution  for  which  there  was  good  reason. 

Down  to  Simonides'  landing  they  rode,  and  in  front  of 
the  great  warehouse,  under  the  bridge,  Malluch  drew  rein. 

"  We  are  come,"  he  said.     "  Dismount." 

Ben-IIur  recognized  the  place. 

"  Where  is  the  sheik  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Come  with  me.     I  will  show  you." 

A  watchman  took  the  horses,  and  almost  before  he  re 
alized  it  Ben-IIur  stood  once  more  at  the  door  of  the  house 
up  on  the  greater  one,  listening  to  the  response  from  within 
— "  In  God  s  name,  enter." 
21 


322  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MALLUCH  stopped  at  the  door ;  Ben-IIur  entered  alone. 

The  room  was  the  same  in  which  he  had  formerly  inter 
viewed  Simonides,  and  it  had  been  in  nowise  changed,  ex 
cept  now,  close  by  the  arm-chair,  a  polished  brazen  rod,  set 
on  a  broad  wooden  pedestal,  arose  higher  than  a  tall  man, 
holding  lamps  of  silver  on  sliding  arms,  half  a  dozen  or 
more  in  number,  and  all  burning.  The  light  was  clear, 
bringing  into  view  the  panelling  on  the  walls,  the  cornice 
with  its  row  of  gilded  balls,  and  the  dome  dully  tinted  with 
violet  mica. 

Within,  a  few  steps,  Bcn-Hur  stopped. 

Three  persons  were  present,  looking  at  him — Simonides, 
Ilderim,  and  Esther. 

He  glanced  hurriedly  from  one  to  another,  as  if  to  find 
answer  to  the  question  half  formed  in  his  mind,  What  busi 
ness  can  these  have  with  me  ?  He  became  calm,  with  every 
sense  on  the  alert,  for  the  question  was  succeeded  by  an 
other,  Are  they  friends  or  enemies  ? 

At  length  his  eyes  rested  upon  Esther. 

The  men  returned  his  look  kindly  ;  in  her  face  there  was 
something  more  than  kindness — something  too  spirituel 
for  definition,  which  yet  went  to  his  inner  consciousness 
without  definition. 

Shall  it  be  said,  good  reader?  Back  of  his  gaze  there 
was  a  comparison  in  which  the  Egyptian  arose  and  set  her 
self  over  against  the  gentle  Jewess  ;  but  it  lived  an  instant, 
and,  as  is  the  habit  of  such  comparisons,  passed  away  with 
out  a  conclusion. 

"  Son  of  Hur— " 

The  guest  turned  to  the  speaker. 

"  Son  of  Hur,"  said  Simonides,  repeating  the  address 
slowly,  and  with  distinct  emphasis,  as  if  to  impress  all  its 
meaning  upon  him  most  interested  in  understanding  it, 
"  take  thou  the  peace  of  the  Lord  God  of  our  fathers — take 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  323 

it  from  me."  He  paused,  then  added,  "  From  me  and 
mine." 

The  speaker  sat  in  his  chair ;  there  were  the  royal  head, 
the  bloodless  face,  the  masterful  air,  under  the  influence  of 
which  visitors  forgot  the  broken  limbs  and  distorted  body 
of  the  man.  The  full  black  eyes  gazed  out  under  the  white 
brows  steadily,  but  not  sternly.  A  moment  thus,  then  he 
crossed  his  hands  upon  his  breast. 

The  acticn,  taken  with  the  salutation,  could  not  be  mis 
understood,  and  was  not. 

"  Simonides,"  Ben-llur  answered,  much  moved,  "  the 
holy  peace  you  tender  is  accepted.  As  son  to  father,  I  return 
it  to  you.  Only  let  there  be  perfect  understanding  between 
us."  * 

Thus  delicately  he  sought  to  put  aside  the  submission  of 
the  merchant,  and,  in  place  of  the  relation  of  master  and 
servant,  substitute  one  higher  and  holier. 

Simonides  let  fall  his  hands,  and,  turning  to  Esther,  said, 
"  A  seat  for  the  master,  daughter." 

She  hastened,  and  brought  a  stool,  and  stood,  with  suf 
fused  face,  looking  from  one  to  the  other  —  from  Ben- 
llur  to  Simonides,  from  Simonides  to  Ben-llur ;  and  they 
waited,  each  declining  the  superiority  direction  would 
imply.  When  at  length  the  pause  began  to  be  embarrass 
ing,  13en-Hur  advanced,  and  gently  took  the  stool  from 
her,  and,  going  to  the  chair,  placed  it  at  the  merchant's 
feet. 

"  I  will  sit  here,"  he  said. 

His  eyes  met  hers — an  instant  only  ;  but  both  were  bet 
ter  of  the  look.  He  recognized  her  gratitude,  she  his  gen 
erosity  and  forbearance. 

Simonides  bowed  his  acknowledgment. 

"  Esther,  child,  bring  me  the  paper,"  he  said,  with  a  breath 
of  relief. 

She  went  to  a  panel  in  the  wall,  opened  it,  took  out  a 
roll  of  papyri,  and  brought  and  gave  it  to  him. 

"  Thou  saidst  well,  son  of  Hur,"  Simonides  began,  while 
unrolling  the  sheets.  "  Let  us  understand  each  other.  In 
anticipation  of  the  demand — which  I  would  have  made 
ha  (1st  thou  waived  it — I  have  here  a  statement  covering 


324  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF   THE  CHRIST. 

everything  necessary  to  the  understanding  required.  I 
could  see  but  two  points  involved — the  property  first,  and 
then  our  relation.  The  statement  is  explicit  as  to  both. 
Will  it  please  thee  to  read  it  now  ?" 

Ben-IIur  received  the  papers,  but  glanced  at  Ilderim. 

"  Nay,"  said  Simonides,  "  the  sheik  shall  not  deter  thee 
from  reading.  The  account — such  thou  wilt  find  it — is  of 
a  nature  requiring  a  witness.  In  the  attesting  place  at  the 
end  thou  wilt  find,  Avhen  thou  comest  to  it,  the  name — Il 
derim,  Sheik.  He  knows  all.  lie  is  thy  friend.  All  he 
has  been  to  me,  that  will  he  be  to  thee  also." 

Simonides  looked  at  the  Arab,  nodding  pleasantly,  and 
the  latter  gravely  returned  the  nod,  saying,  "  Thou  hast 
said." 

Ben-Hur  replied,  "  I  know  already  the  excellence  of  his 
friendship,  and  have  yet  to  prove  myself  worthy  of  it." 
Immediately  he  continued,  "Later,  O  Simonides,  I  will  read 
the  papers  carefully ;  for  the  present,  do  thou  take  them, 
and  if  thou  be  not  too  Aveary,  give  me  their  substance." 

Simonides  took  back  the  roll. 

"  Here,  Esther,  stand  by  me  and  receive  the  sheets,  lest 
they  fall  into  confusion." 

She  took  place  by  his  chair,  letting  her  right  arm  fall 
lightly  across  his  shoulder,  so,  when  he  spoke,  the  account 
seemed  to  have  rendition  from  both  of  them  jointly. 

"  This,"  said  Simonides,  drawing  out  the  first  leaf,  "  shows 
the  money  I  had  of  thy  father's,  being  the  amount  saved 
from  the  Romans ;  there  was  no  property  saved,  only  money, 
and  that  the  robbers  would  have  secured  but  for  our  Jewish 
custom  of  bills  of  exchange.  The  amount  saved,  being 
sums  I  drew  from  Rome,  Alexandria,  Damascus,  Carthage, 
Valentia,  and  elsewhere  within  the  circle  of  trade,  was  one 
hundred  and  twenty  talents  Jewish  money." 

He  gave  the  sheet  to  Esther,  and  took  the  next  one. 

"  With  that  amount — one  hundred  and  twenty  talents — 
I  charged  myself.  Hear  now  my  credits.  I  use  the  word, 
as  thou  wilt  see,  with  reference  rather  to  the  proceeds 
gained  from  the  use  of  the  money." 

From  separate  sheets  he  then  read  footings,  which,  frac 
tions  omitted,  were  as  follows  : 


BEX-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  325 

"OR. 

By  ships 60  talents. 

goods  in  store , 110 

cargoes  in  transit 7o 

camels,  horses,  etc 20 

warehouses 10 

bills  due 54 

money  on  hand  and  subject  to  draft. . .  224 

Total 653        "     " 

"  To  these  now,  to  the  five  hundred  and  fifty-three  talents 
gained,  add  the  original  capital  I  had  from  thy  father,  and 
thou  hast  Six  HUNDRED  AND  SEVENTY-THREE  TALENTS  ! — 
and  all  thine — making  thee,  O  son  of  Ilur,  the  richest  sub 
ject  in  the  world." 

He  took  the  papyri  from  Esther,  and,  reserving  one, 
rolled  them  and  offered  them  to  Ben-IIur.  The  pride  per 
ceptible  in  his  manner  was  not  offensive ;  it  might  have 
been  from  a  sense  of  duty  well  done ;  it  might  have  been 
for  Ben-IIur  without  reference,  to  himself. 

"  And  there  is  nothing,"  he  added,  dropping  his  voice, 
but  not  his  eyes — "  there  is  nothing  now  thou  mayst  not 
do." 

The  moment  was  one  of  absorbing  interest  to  all  present. 
Simonides  crossed  his  hands  upon  his  breast  again  ;  Esther 
was  anxious  ;  Ilderim  nervous.  A  man  is  never  so  on  trial 
as  in  the  moment  of  excessive  go^cT-fortune. 

Taking  the  roll,  Ben  Hurarose,  struggling  with  emotion. 

"  All  this  is  to  me  as  a  light  from  heaven,  sent  to  drive 
away  a  night  which  has  been  so  long  I  feared  it  would 
never  end,  and  so  dark  I  had  lost  the  hope  of  seeing,"  he 
said,  with  a  husky  voice.  "  I  give  first  thanks  to  the  Lord, 
who  has  not  abandoned  me,  and  my  next  to  thee,  O  Simoni 
des.  Thy  faithfulness  outweighs  the  cruelty  of  others,  and 
redeems  our  human  nature.  '  There  is  nothing  I  cannot  do :' 
be  it  so.  Shall  any  man  in  this  my  hour  of  such  mighty 
privilege  be  more  generous  than  I  ?  Serve  me  as  a  witness 
now,  Sheik  Ilderim.  Hear  thou  my  words  as  I  shall  speak 
them — hear  and  remember.  -And  thou,  Esther,  good  angel 
of  this  good  man  !  hear  thou  also." 

He  stretched  his  hand  with  the  roll  to  Simonides. 


326  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  The  tilings  these  papers  take  into  account — all  of  them  : 
ships,  houses,  goods,  camels,  horses,  money ;  the  least  as  well 
as  the  greatest — give  I  back  to  thee,  O  Simonidcs,  making 
them  all  thine,  and  sealing  them  to  thee  and  thine  forever." 

Esther  smiled  through  her  tears ;  Ilderim  pulled  his 
beard  with  rapid  motion,  his  eyes  glistening  like  beads  of 
jet.  Simonides  alone  was  calm. 

"  Sealing  them  to  thee  and  thine  forever,  Ben-IIur  con 
tinued,  with  better  control  of  himself,  "  with  one  excep 
tion,  and  upon  one  condition." 

The  breath  of  the  listeners  waited  upon  his  words. 

"  The  hundred  and  twenty  talents  which  were  my  fa 
ther's  thou  shalt  return  to  me." 

Ilderim's  countenance  brightened. 

"  And  thou  shalt  join  me  in  search  of  my  mother  and 
sister,  holding  all  thine  subject  to  the  expense  of  discovery, 
even  as  I  will  hold  mine." 

Simonides  was  much  affected.  Stretching  out  his  hand, 
he  said,  "  I  see  thy  spirit,  son  of  Hur,  and  I  am  grateful  to 
the  Lord  that  he  hath  sent  thee  to  me  such  as  thou  art.  If 
I  served  well  thy  father  in  life,  and  his  memory  afterwards, 
be  not  afraid  of  default  to  thee  ;  yet  must  I  say  the  excep 
tion  cannot  stand." 

Exhibiting,  then,  the  reserved  sheet,  he  continued, 

"  Thou  hast  not  all  the  account.  Take  this  and  read — 
read  aloud." 

Ben-Hur  took  the  supplement,  and  read  it. 

"  Statement  of  the  servants  of  Hur,  rendered  by  Simonidcs,  steward 
of  the  estate. 

"  1.  Amrah,  Egyptian,  keeping  the  palace  in  Jerusalem. 
"  2.  Simonides,  the  steward,  in  Antioch. 
"  3.  Esther,  daughter  of  Simonides." 

Now,  in  all  his  thoughts  of  Simonides,  not  once  had  it 
entered  Ben-Hur's  mind  that,  by  the  law,  a  daughter  fol 
lowed  the  parent's  condition.  In  all  his  visions  of  her, 
the  sweet-faced  Esther  had  figured  as  the  rival  of  the  Egyp 
tian,  and  an  object  of  possible  love.  He  shrank  from  the 
revelation  so  suddenly  broughf  him,  and  looked  at  her  blush 
ing  ;  and,  blushing,  she  dropped  her  eyes  before  him.  Then 
he  said,  while  the  papyrus  rolled  itself  together, 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  327 

"  A  man  with  six  hundred  talents  is  indeed  rich,  and  may 
do  what  he  pleases  ;  but,  rarer  than  the  money,  more  price 
less  than  the  property,  is  the  mind  which  amassed  the  wealth, 
and  the  heart  it  could  not  corrupt  when  amassed.  O  Si- 
monides — and  thou,  fair  Esther — fear  not.  Sheik  Ilderim 
here  shall  be  witness  that  in  the  same  moment  ye  were  de 
clared  my  servants,  that  moment  I  declared  ye  free ;  and 
what  I  declare,  that  will  I  put  in  writing.  Is  it  not  enough  ? 
Can  I  do  more  ?" 

"  Son  of  Ilur,"  said  Simonides,  "  verily  thou  dost  make 
servitude  lightsome.  I  was  wrong  ;  there  are  some  things 
thou  canst  not  do  :  thou  canst  not  make  us  free  in  law.  I 
am  thy  servant  forever,  because  I  went  to  the  door  with 
thy  father  one  day,  and  in  my  ear  the  awl  -  marks  yet 
abide." 

"  Did  my  father  that  ?" 

"  Judge  him  not,"  cried  Simonides,  quickly.  "  He  ac 
cepted  me  a  servant  of  that  class  because  I  prayed  him  to 
do  so.  I  never  repented  the  step.  It  was  the  price  I  paid 
for  Rachel,  the  mother  of  my  child  here  ;  for  Rachel,  who 
would  not  be  my  wife  unless  I  became  what  she  was." 

"  Was  she  a  servant  forever  ?" 

"  Even  so." 

Ben-llur  walked  the  floor  in  pain  of  impotent  wish. 

"  I  was  rich  before,"  he  said,  stopping  suddenly.  "  I 
was  rich  with  the  gifts  of  the  generous  Arrius ;  now  comes 
this  greater  fortune,  and  the  mind  which  achieved  it.  Is 
there  not  a  purpose  of  God  in  it  all  ?  Counsel  me,  O  Si 
monides  !  Help  me  to  see  the  right  and  do  it.  Help  me  to 
be  worthy  my  name,  and  what  thou  art  in  law  to  me,  that 
will  I  be  to  thee  in  fact  and  deed.  I  will  be  thy  servant 
forever." 

Simonides'  face  actually  glowed. 

"  O  son  of  my  dead  master  !  I  will  do  better  than  help  ; 
I  will  serve  thee  with  all  my  might  of  mind  and  heart. 
Body, I  have  not;  it  perished  in  thy  cause;  but  with  mind 
and  heart  I  will  serve  thee.  I  swear  it,  by  the  altar  of  our 
God,  and  the  gifts  upon  the  altar  !  Only  make  me  formally 
what  I  have  assumed  to  be." 

"  Name  it,"  said  Ben-Hur,  eagerly. 


328  MEN-HUB:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

"  As  steward  the  care  of  the  property  will  be  mine." 

"  Count  thyself  steward  now ;  or  wilt  thou  have  it  in 
writing  ?" 

"  Thy  word  simply  is  enough  ;  it  was  so  with  the  father, 
and  I  will  not  more  from  the  son.  And  now,  if  the  under 
standing  be  perfect " — Simonides  paused. 

"  It  is  with  me,"  said  Ben-Hur. 

"  And  thou,  daughter  of  Rachel,  speak  !"  said  Simonides, 
lifting  her  arm  from  his  shoulder. 

Esther,  left  thus  alone,  stood  a  moment  abashed,  her 
color  coming  and  going ;  then  she  went  to  Ben-Hur,  and 
said,  with  a  womanliness  singularly  sweet,  "  I  am  not  bet 
ter  than  my  mother  was ;  and,  as  she  is  gone,  I  pray  you, 
O  my  master,  let  me  care  for  my  father." 

"  Ben-Hur  took  her  hand,  and  led  her  back  to  the  chair, 
saying,  u  Thou  art  a  good  child.  Have  thy  will." 

Simonides  replaced  her  arm  upon  his  neck,  and  there 
was  silence  for  a  time  in  the  room. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SIMONIDES  looked  up,  none  the  less  a  master. 

"  Esther,"  he  said,  quietly,  "  the  night  is  going  fast ; 
and,  lest  we  become  too  weary  for  that  which  is  before 
us,  let  the  refreshments  be  brought." 

She  rang  a  bell.  A  servant  answered  with  wine  and 
bread,  which  she  bore  round. 

"  The  understanding,  good  my  master,"  continued  Simon 
ides,  when  all  were  served,  "  is  not  perfect  in  my  sight. 
Henceforth  our  lives  will  run  on  together  like  rivers  which 
Jiave  met  and  joined  their  waters.  I  think  their  flowing 
will  be  better  if  every  cloud  is  blown  from  the  sky  above 
them.  You  left  my  door  the  other  day  with  what  seemed 
a  denial  of  the  claims  which  I  have  just  allowed  in  the 
broadest  terms  ;  but  it  was  not  so,  indeed  it  was  not. 
Esther  is  witness  that  I  recognized  you ;  and  that  I  did 
not  abandon  you,  let  Malluch  say." 

"  Malluch  !"  exclaimed  Ben-Hur. 

"  One  bound  to  a  chair,  like  me,  must  have  many  hands 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  329 

far-reaching,  if  ho  would  move  the  world  from  which  he 
is  so  cruelly  barred.  I  have  many  such,  and  Malluch  is 
one  of  the  best  of  them.  And,  sometimes" — he  cast  a 
grateful  glance  at  the  sheik — "  sometimes  I  borrow  from 
others  good  of  heart,  like  Ilderim  the  Generous — good 
and  brave.  Let  him  say  if  I  either  denied  or  forgot  you." 

Ben-Hur  looked  at  the  Arab. 

"  This  is  he,  good  Ilderim,  this  is  he  who  told  you  of 
me?" 

Ilderim's  eyes  twinkled  as  he  nodded  his  answer. 

"  How,  O  my  master,"  said  Simonides,  "  may  we  with 
out  trial  tell  what  a  man  is  ?  I  knew  you  ;  I  saw  your 
father  in  you  ;  but  the  kind  of  man  you  were  I  did  not 
know.  There  are  people  to  whom  fortune  is  a  curse  in 
disguise.  Were  you  of  them  ?  I  sent  Malluch  to  find  out 
for  me,  and  in  the  service  he  was  my  eyes  and  ears.  Do 
not  blame  him.  He  brought  me  report  of  you  which  was 
all  good." 

"  I  do  not,"  said  Ben-IIur,  heartily.  "  There  was  wis 
dom  in  your  goodness." 

"  The  words  are  very  pleasant  to  me,"  said  the  merchant, 
with  feeling,  "  very  pleasant.  My  fear  of  misunderstand 
ing  is  laid.  Let  the  rivers  run  on  now  as  God  may  give 
them  direction." 

After  an  interval  he  continued : 

"  I  am  compelled  now  by  truth.  The  weaver  sits  weav 
ing,  and,  as  the  shuttle  flies,  the  cloth  increases,  and  the 
figures  grow,  and  he  dreams  dreams  meanwhile ;  so  to  my 
hands  the  fortune  grew,  and  I  wondered  at  the  increase, 
and  asked  myself  about  it  many  times.  I  could  see  a  care 
not  my  own  went  with  the  enterprises  1  set  going.  The 
simooms  which  smote  others  on  the  desert  jumped  over 
the  things  which  were  mine.  The  storms  which  heaped 
the  seashore  with  wrecks  did  but  blow  my  ships  the  sooner 
into  port.  Strangest  of  all,  I,  so  dependent  upon  others, 
fixed  to  a  place  like  a  dead  thing,  had  never  a  loss  by  an 
agent — never.  The  elements  stooped  to  serve  me,  and  all 
my  servants,  in  fact,  were  faithful." 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  said  Ben-Hur. 

"  So  I  said,  and  kept  saying.     Finally,  O  my  master, 


330  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

finally  I  came  to  be  of  your  opinion — God  was  in  it — and, 
like  you,  I  asked,  What  can  his  purpose  be  ?  Intelligence 
is  never  wasted  ;  intelligence  like  God's  never  stirs  except 
with  design.  I  have  held  the  question  in  heart,  lo  !  these 
many  years,  watching  for  an  answer.  I  felt  sure,  if  God 
were  in  it,  some  day,  in  his  own  good  time,  in  his  own 
way,  he  would  show  me  his  purpose,  making  it  clear  as  a 
whited  house  upon  a  hill.  And  I  believe  he  has  done  so." 

Ben-Hur  listened  with  every  faculty  intent. 

"  Many  years  ago,  with  my  people — thy  mother  Avas  with 
me,  Esther,  beautiful  as  morning  over  old  Olivet — I  sat  by 
the  wayside  out  north  of  Jerusalem,  near  the  Tombs  of  the 
Kings,  when  three  men  passed  by  riding  great  white  camels, 
such  as  had  never  been  seen  in  the  Holy  City.  The  men 
were  strangers,  and  from  far  countries.  The  first  one 
stopped  and  asked  me  a  question.  '  Where  is  he  that  is 
born  King  of  the  Jews  ?'  As  if  to  allay  my  wonder,  he 
went  on  to  say,  '  We  have  seen  his  star  in  the  east,  and 
have  come  to  worship  him.'  I  could  not  understand,  but 
followed  them  to  the  Damascus  Gate  ;  and  of  every  person 
they  met  on  the  way — of  the  guard  at  the  Gate,  even — 
they  asked  the  question.  All  who  heard  it  were  amazed 
like  me.  In  time  I  forgot  the  circumstance,  though  there 
was  much  talk  of  it  as  a  presage  of  the  Messiah.  Alas, 
alas  i  What  children  we  are,  even  the  wisest !  When 
God  walks  the  earth,  his  steps  are  often  centuries  apart. 
You  have  seen  Balthasar  ?" 

"  And  heard  him  tell  his  story,"  said  Ben-Hur. 

"  A  miracle  ! — a  very  miracle  !"  cried  Simonides.  "  As 
he  told  it  to  me,  good  my  master,  I  seemed  to  hear  the 
answer  I  had  so  long  waited ;  God's  purpose  burst  upon 
me.  Poor  will  the  King  be  when  he  comes — poor  and 
friendless ;  without  following,  without  armies,  without 
cities  or  castles ;  a  kingdom  to  be  set  up,  and  Rome  re 
duced  and  blotted  out.  See,  see,  O  my  master  !  thou 
flushed  with  strength,  thou  trained  to  arms,  thou  burdened 
with  riches  ;  behold  the  opportunity  the  Lord  hath  sent 
thee  !  Shall  not  his  purpose  be  thine  ?  Could  a  man  be 
born  to  a  more  perfect  glory  ?" 

Simonides  put  his  whole  force  in  the  appeal. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  331 

"  But  the  kingdom,  the  kingdom  !"  Ben-IIur  answered, 
eagerly.  "  Balthasar  says  it  is  to  be  of  souls." 

The  pride  of  the  Jew  was  strong  in  Simonides,  and  there 
fore  the  slightly  contemptuous  curl  of  the  lip  with  which 
he  began  his  reply  : 

"  Balthasar  has  been  a  witness  of  wonderful  things — of 
miracles,  O  my  master  ;  and  when  he  speaks  of  them,  I 
bow  with  belief,  for  they  are  of  sight  and  sound  personal 
to  him.  But  he  is  a  son  of  Mizraim,  and  not  even  a  prose 
lyte.  Hardly  may  he  be  supposed  to  have  special  knowl 
edge  by  virtue  of  which  we  must  bow  to  him  in  a  matter 
of  God's  dealing  with  our  Israel.  The  prophets  had  their 
light  from  Heaven  directly,  even  as  he  had  his — many  to 
one,  and  Jehovah  the  same  forever.  I  must  believe  the 
prophets. — Bring  me  the  Torah,  Esther." 

He  proceeded  without  waiting  for  her. 

"  May  the  testimony  of  a  whole  people  be  slighted,  my 
master  ?  Though  you  travel  from  Tyre,  which  is  by  the 
sea  in  the  north,  to  the  capital  of  Edom,  which  is  in  the 
desert  south,  you  will  not  find  a  lisper  of  the  Shema,  an 
alms-giver  in  the  Temple,  or  any  one  who  has  ever  eaten 
of  the  lamb  of  the  Passover,  to  tell  you  the  kingdom  the 
King  is  coming  to  build  for  us,  the  children  of  the  cove 
nant,  is  other  than  of  this  world,  like  our  father  David's. 
Now  where  got  they  the  faith,  ask  you  ?  We  will  see 
presently." 

Esther  here  returned,  bringing  a  number  of  rolls  care 
fully  enveloped  in  dark-brown  linen,  lettered  quaintly  in 
gold. 

"  Keep  them,  daughter,  to  give  to  me  as  I  call  for  them," 
the  father  said,  in  the  tender  voice  he  always  used  in  speak 
ing  to  her,  and  continued  his  argument : 

"  It  were  long,  good  my  master — too  long,  indeed — for 
me  to  repeat  to  you  the  names  of  the  holy  men  who,  in 
the  providence  of  God,  succeeded  the  prophets,  only  a 
little  less  favored  than  they — the  seers  who  have  written 
and  the  preachers  who  have  taught  since  the  Captivity ; 
the  very  wise  who  borrowed  their  lights  from  the  lamp  of 
Malachi,  the  last  of  his  line,  and  whose  great  names  Hil- 
lel  and  Shammai  never  tired  of  repeating  in  the  colleges. 


332  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

Will  you  ask  them  of  the  kingdom  ?  Thus,  the  Lord  of 
the  sheep  in  the  Book  of  Enoch — who  is  he  ?  Who  but 
the  King  of  whom  we  are  speaking  ?  A  throne  is  set  up 
for  him ;  he  smites  the  earth,  and  the  other  kings  are 
shaken  from  their  thrones,  and  the  scourges  of  Israel  flung 
into  a  cavern  of  fire  flaming  with  pillars  of  fire.  So  also 
the  singer  of  the  Psalms  of  Solomon — '  Behold,  O  Lord, 
and  raise  up  to  Israel  their  king,  the  son  of  David,  at  the 
time  thou  knovvest,  O  God,  to  rule  Israel,  thy  children.  .  .  . 
And  he  will  bring  the  peoples  of  the  heathen  under  his 
yoke  to  serve  him.  .  .  .  And  lie  shall  be  a  righteous  king 
taught  of  God,  .  .  .  for  he  shall  rule  all  the  earth  by  the 
word  of  his  mouth  forever.'  And  last,  though  not  least, 
hear  Ezra,  the  second  Moses,  in  his  visions  of  the  night, 
and  ask  him  who  is  the  lion  with  human  voice  that  says 
to  the  eagle — which  is  Rome — '  Thou  hast  loved  liars,  and 
overthrown  the  cities  of  the  industrious,  and  razed  their 
walls,  though  they  did  thee  no  harm.  Therefore,  begone, 
that  the  earth  may  be  refreshed,  and  recover  itself,  and 
hope  in  the  justice  and  piety  of  him  who  made  her.' 
Whereat  the  eagle  was  seen  no  more.  Surely,  O  my  mas 
ter,  the  testimony  of  these  should  be  enough  !  But  the 
way  to  the  fountain's  head  is  open.  Let  us  go  up  to  it 
at  once. — Some  wine,  Esther,  and  then  the  Torah." 

"Dost  thou  believe  the  prophets,  master?"  he  asked, 
after  drinking.  "  I  know  thou  dost,  for  of  such  was  the 
faith  of  all  thy  kindred. — Give  me,  Esther,  the  book  which 
hath  in  it  the  visions  of  Isaiah." 

He  took  one  of  the  rolls  which  she  had  unwrapped  for 
him,  and  read,  "  '  The  people  that  walked  in  darkness  have 
seen  a  great  light :  they  that  dwell  in  the  land  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  upon  them  hath  the  light  shined.  .  .  .  For  unto 
us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given :  and  the  govern 
ment  shall  be  upon  his  shoulder.  ...  Of  the  increase  of 
his  government  and  peace  there  shall  be  no  end,  upon  the 
throne  of  David,  and  upon  his  kingdom,  to  order  it,  and  to 
establish  it  with  judgment  and  with  justice  from  hence 
forth  even  forever.' — Believest  thou  the  prophets,  O  my 
master  ? — Now,  Esther,  the  word  of  the  Lord  that  came  to 
Micah." 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST.  333 

She  gave  him  the  roll  he  asked. 

"  '  But  thou,'  "  he  began  reading — "  <  but  thou,  Bethle 
hem  Ephrath,  though  thou  be  little  among  the  thousands 
of  Judah,  yet  out  of  thee  shall  he  come  forth  unto  me  that 
is  to  be  ruler  in  Israel.' — This  was  he,  the  very  child  Bal- 
thasar  saw  and  worshipped  in  the  cave.  Belie  vest  thou 
the  prophets,  O  my  master  ? — Give  me,  Esther,  the  words 
of  Jeremiah." 

Receiving  that  roll,  he  read  as  before,  " '  Behold,  the 
days  come,  saith  the  Lord,  that  I  will  raise  unto  David  a 
righteous  branch,  and  a  king  shall  reign  and  prosper,  and 
shall  execute  judgment  and  justice  in  the  earth.  In  his 
days  Judah  shall  be  saved,  and  Israel  shall  dwell  safely.' 
As  a  king  he  shall  reign — as  a  king,  O  my  master !  Be- 
lievest  thou  the  prophets  ? — Now,  daughter,  the  roll  of 
the  sayings  of  that  son  of  Judah  in  whom  there  was  no 
blemish." 

She  gave  him  the  Book  of  Daniel. 

"  Hear,  my  master,"  he  said :  4"  I  saw  in  the  night  vis 
ions,  and  behold,  one  like  the  Son  of  man  came  with  the 
clouds  of  heaven.  .  .  .  And  there  was  given  him  dominion, 
and  glory,  and  a  kingdom,- that  all  people,  nations,  and  lan 
guages  should  serve  him ;  his  dominion  is  an  everlasting 
dominion,  which  shall  not  pass  away,  and  his  kingdom  that 
which  shall  not  be  destroyed.' — Believest  thou  the  prophets, 
O  my  master?" 

"  It  is  enough.     I  believe,"  cried  Ben-Hur. 

"  What  then  ?"  asked  Simonides.  "  If  the  King  come 
poor,  will  not  my  master,  of  his  abundance,  give  him  help  ?" 

"  Help  him  ?  To  the  last  shekel  and  the  last  breath. 
But  why  speak  of  his  coining  poor  ?" 

"  Give  me,  Esther,  the  word  of  the  Lord  as  it  came  to 
Zechariah,"  said  Simonides. 

She  gave  him  one  of  the  rolls. 

"  Hear  how  the  King  will  enter  Jerusalem."  Then  he 
read,  "  '  Rejoice  greatly,  O  daughter  of  Zion.  .  .  .  Behold, 
thy  King  cometh  unto  thee  with  justice  and  salvation ; 
lowly,  and  riding  upon  an  ass,  and  upon  a  colt,  the  foal  of 
an  ass.' " 

Ben-Hur  looked  away. 


334  BEN-HUE:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

"  What  see  you,  O  my  master  ?" 

"  Rome  !"  he  answered,  gloomily — "  Rome,  and  her  le 
gions.  I  have  dwelt  with  them  in  their  camps.  I  know 
them." 

"  Ah  !"  said  Simonides.  "  Thou  shalt  be  a  master  of 
legions  for  the  King,  with  millions  to  choose  from." 

"  Millions  !"  cried  Ben-IIur. 

Simonides  sat  a  moment  thinking. 

"  The  question  of  power  should  not  trouble  you,"  he 
next  said. 

Ben-IIur  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"  You  were  seeing  the  lowly  King  in  the  act  of  coming 
to  his  own,"  Simonides  answered — "  seeing  him  on  the 
right  hand,  as  it  were,  and  on  the  left  the  brassy  legions 
of  Caesar,  and  you  were  asking,  What  can  he  do  ?" 

"  It  was  my  very  thought." 

"  O  my  master  !"  Simonides  continued.  "  You  do  not 
know  how  strong  our  Israel  is.  You  think  of  him  as  a 
sorrowful  old  man  weeping  by  the  rivers  of  Babylon.  But 
go  up  to  Jerusalem  next  Passover,  and  stand  on  the  Xystus 
or  in  the  Street  of  Barter,  and  see  him  as  he  is.  The 
promise  of  the  Lord  to  father  Jacob  coming  out  of  Padan- 
Aram  was  a  law  under  which  our  people  have  not  ceased 
multiplying — not  even  in  captivity  ;  they  grew  under  foot 
of  the  Egyptian ;  the  clench  of  the  Roman  lias  been  but 
wholesome  nurture  to  them ;  now  they  are  indeed  '  a  na 
tion,  and  a  company  of  nations.'  Nor  that  only,  my  mas 
ter  ;  in  fact,  to  measure  the  strength  of  Israel — which  is, 
in  fact,  measuring  what  the  King  can  do — you  shall  not 
bide  solely  by  the  rule  of  natural  increase,  but  add  thereto 
the  other — I  mean  the  spread  of  the  faith,  which  will  carry 
you  to  the  far  and  near  of  the  whole  known  earth.  Fur 
ther,  the  habit  is,  I  know,  to  think  and  speak  of  Jerusalem 
as  Israel,  which  may  be  likened  to  our  finding  an  embroid 
ered  shred,  and  holding  it  up  as  a  magisterial  robe  of 
Caesar's.  Jerusalem  is  but  a  stone  of  the  Temple,  or  the 
heart  in  the  body.  Turn  from  beholding  the  legions, 
strong  though  they  be,  and  count  the  hosts  of  the  faithful 
waiting  the  old  alarm,  '  To  your  tents,  O  Israel !' — count 
the  many  in  Persia,  children  of  those  who  chose  not  to  re- 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST.  335 

turn  with  the  returning ;  count  the  brethren  who  swarm 
the  marts  of  Egypt  and  Farther  Africa  ;  count  the  Hebrew 
colonists  eking  profit  in  the  West — in  Lodinum  and  the 
trade-courts  of  Spain ;  count  the  pure  of  blood  and  the 
proselytes  in  Greece  and  in  the  isles  of  the  sea,  and  over 
in  Pontus,  and  here  in  Antioch,  and,  for  that  matter,  those 
of  that  city  lying  accursed  in  the  shadow  of  the  unclean 
walls  of  Rome  herself ;  count  the  worshippers  of  the  Lord 
dwelling  in  tents  along  the  deserts  next  us,  as  well  as  in 
the  deserts  beyond  the  Nile  :  and  in  the  regions  across  the 
Caspian,  and  up  in  the  old  lands  of  Gog  and  Magog  even ; 
separate  those  who  annually  send  gifts  to  the  Holy  Temple 
in  acknowledgment  of  God — separate  them,  that  they  may 
be  counted  also.  And  when  you  have  done  counting,  lo ! 
my  master,  a  census  of  the  sword  hands  that  await  you ; 
lo  !  a  kingdom  ready  fashioned  for  him  who  is  to  do  '  judg 
ment  and  justice  in  the  whole  earth ' — in  Rome  not  less  than 
in  Zion.  Have  then  the  answer,  What  Israel  can  do,  that 
can  the  King." 

The  picture  was  fervently  given. 

Upon  Ilderim  it  operated  like  the  blowing  of  a  trumpet. 
"  Oh  that  I  had  back  my  youth !"  he  cried,  starting  to  his 
feet. 

Ben-Hur  sat  still.  The  speech,  he  saw,  was  an  invita 
tion  to  devote  his  life  and  fortune  to  the  mysterious  Being 
who  was  palpably  as  much  the  centre  of  a  great  hope  with 
Simonides  as  with  the  devout  Egyptian.  The  idea,  as  we 
have  seen,  was  not  a  new  one,  but  had  come  to  him  re 
peatedly  ;  once  while  listening  to  Malluch  in  the  Grove  of 
Daphne ;  afterwards  more  distinctly  while  Balthasar  was 
giving  his  conception  of  what  the  kingdom  was  to  be  ;  still 
later,  in  the  walk  through  the  old  Orchard,  it  had  risen  al 
most,  if  not  quite,  into  a  resolve.  At  such  times  it  had 
come  and  gone  only  an  idea,  attended  with  feelings  more 
or  less  acute.  Not  so  now.  A  master  had  it  in  charge,  a 
master  was  working  it  up  ;  already  he  had  exalted  it  into  a 
cause  brilliant  with  possibilities  and  infinitely  holy.  The 
effect  was  as  if  a  door  theretofore  unseen  had  suddenly 
opened  flooding  Ben-Hur  with  light,  and  admitting  him  to 
a  service  which  had  been  his  one  perfect  dream — a  service 


336  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

reaching  far  into  the  future,  and  rich  with  the  rewards  of 
duty  done,  and  prizes  to  sweeten  and  soothe  his  ambition. 
One  touch  more  was  needed. 

"  Let  us  concede  all  you  say,  O  Simonides,"  said  Ben- 
Hur — "  that  the  King  will  come,  and  his  kingdom  be  as 
Solomon's ;  say  also  I  am  ready  to  give  myself  and  all  I 
have  to  him  and  his  cause  ;  yet  more,  say  that  I  should  do 
as  was  God's  purpose  in  the  ordering  of  my  life  and  in  your 
quick  amassment  of  astonishing  fortune  ;  then  what  ?  Shall 
we  proceed  like  blind  men  building  ?  Shall  we  wait  till  the 
King  comes  ?  Or  until  he  sends  for  me  ?  You  have  age 
and  experience  on  your  side.  Answer." 

Simonides  answered  at  once. 

"  We  have  no  choice  ;  none.  This  letter  " — he  produced 
Messala's  despatch  as  he  spoke — "  this  letter  is  the  signal 
for  action.  The  alliance  proposed  between  Messala  and 
Gratus  we  are  not  strong  enough  to  resist ;  we  have  not  the 
influence  at  Rome  nor  the  force  here.  They  will  kill  you 
if  we  wait.  How  merciful  they  are,  look  at  me  and  judge." 

He  shuddered  at  the  terrible  recollection. 

"  O  good  my  master,"  he  continued,  recovering  himself ; 
"  how  strong  arc  you — in  purpose,  I  mean  ?" 

Ben-Hur  did  not  understand  him. 

"  I  remember  how  pleasant  the  world  was  to  me  in  my 
youth,"  Simonides  proceeded. 

"  Yet,"  said  Ben-Hur,  "  you  were  capable  of  a  great 
sacrifice." 

"  Yes ;  for  love." 

"  Has  not  life  other  motives  as  strong  ?" 

Simonides  shook  his  head. 

"  There  is  ambition." 

"  Ambition  is  forbidden  a  son  of  Israel." 

"  What,  then,  of  revenge  ?" 

The  spark  dropped  upon  the  inflammable  passion ;  the 
man's  eyes  gleamed ;  his  hands  shook ;  he  answered, 
quickly,  "  Revenge  is  a  Jew's  of  right ;  it  is  the  law." 

"  A  camel,  even  a  dog,  will  remember  a  wrong,"  cried 
Ildcrim. 

Directly  Simonides  picked  up  the  broken  thread  of  his 
thought. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  337 

"  There  is  a  work,  a  work  for  the  King,  which  should  be 
done  in  advance  of  his  coming.  We  may  not  doubt  that 
Israel  is  to  be  his  right  hand ;  but,  alas !  it  is  a  hand  of 
peace,  Avithout  cunning  in  war.  Of  the  millions,  there  is' 
not  one  trained  band,  not  a  captain.  The  mercenaries  of 
the  llerods  I  do  not  count,  for  they  are  kept  to  crush  us. 
The  condition  is  as  the  Roman  would  have  it ;  his  policy 
has  fruited  well  for  his  tyranny ;  but  the  time  of  change  is 
at  hand,  when  the  shepherd  shall  put  on  armor,  and  take  to 
spear  and  sword,  and  the  feeding  flocks  be  turned  to  light 
ing  lions.  Some  one,  my  son,  must  have  place  next  the 
King  at  his  right  hand.  Who  shall  it  be  if  not  he  who 
does  this  work  well  ?" 

Ben-Hur's  face  flushed  at  the  prospect,  though  he  said, 
"  I  see ;  but  speak  plainly.  A  deed  to  be  done  is  one 
thing ;  how  to  do  it  is  another." 

Simonides  sipped  the  wine  Esther  brought  him,  and  re 
plied, 

"  The  sheik,  and  thou,  my  master,  shall  be  principals, 
each  with  a  part.  I  will  remain  here,  carrying  on  as  now, 
and  watchful  that  the  spring  go  not  dry.  Thou  shalt  be 
take  thce  to  Jerusalem,  and  thence  to  the  wilderness,  and 
begin  numbering  the  fighting-men  of  Israel,  and  telling 
them  into  tens  and  hundreds,  and  choosing  captains  and 
training  them,  and  in  secret  places  hoarding  arms,  for 
which  I  shall  keep  thee  supplied.  Commencing  over  in 
Perea,  thou  shalt  go  then  to  Galilee,  whence  it  is  but  a  step 
to  Jerusalem.  In  Perea,  the  desert  will  be  at  thy  back,  and 
Ilderim  in  reach  of  thy  hand.  lie  will  keep  the  roads,  so 
that  nothing  shall  pass  without  thy  knowledge.  lie  will 
help  thee  in  many  ways.  Until  the  ripening  time  no  one 
shall  know  what  is  here  contracted.  Mine  is  but  a  servant's 
part.  I  have  spoken  to  Ilderim.  AVhat  sayest  thou  ?" 

Ben-Hur  looked  at  the  sheik. 

"  It  is  as  he  says,  son  of  Ilur,"  the  Arab  responded.  "  I 
have  given  my  word,  and  he  is  content  with  it ;  but  thou 
shalt  have  my  oath,  binding  me,  and  the  ready  hands  of  my 
tribe,  and  whatever  serviceable  thing  I  have." 

The  three — Simonides,  Ilderim,  Esther — gazed  at  Ben- 
llur  fixedly. 
22 


338  BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  Every  man,"  he  answered,  at  first  sadly,  "  has  a  cup  of 
pleasure  poured  for  him,  and  soon  or  late  it  comes  to  his 
hand,  and  he  tastes  and  drinks — every  man  but  me.  I  see, 
Simonides,  and  thou,  O  generous  sheik  ! — I  see  whither  the 
proposal  tends.  If  I  accept,  and  enter  upon  the  course, 
farewell  peace,  and  the  hopes  which  cluster  around  it.  The 
doors  I  might  enter  and  the  gates  of  quiet  life  Avill  shut 
behind  me,  never  to  open  again,  for  Rome  keeps  them  all ; 
and  her  outlawry  will  follow'  me,  and  her  hunters ;  and  in 
the  tombs  near  cities  and  the  dismal  caverns  of  remotest 
hills,  I  must  eat  my  crust  and  take  my  rest." 

The  speech  was  broken  by  a  sob.  All  turned  to  Esther, 
who  hid  her  face  upon  her  father's  shoulder. 

"  I  did  not  think  of  you,  Esther,"  said  Simonides,  gently, 
for  he  was  himself  deeply  moved. 

"  It  is  well  enough,  Simonides,"  said  Ben-Hur.  "  A  man 
bears  a  hard  doom  better,  knowing  there  is  pity  for  him. 
Let  me  go  on." 

They  gave  him  ear  again. 

"  I  was  about  to  say,"  he  continued,  "  I  have  no  choice, 
but  take  the  part  you  assign  me  ;  and  as  remaining  here  is 
to  meet  an  ignoble  death,  I  will  to  the  work  at  once." 

"  Shall  we  have  writings  ?"  asked  Simonides,  moved  by 
his  habit  of  business. 

"  I  rest  upon  your  word,"  said  Ben-Hur. 

"  And  I,"  Ilderim  answered. 

Thus  simply  was  effected  the  treaty  which  was  to  alter 
Ben-IIur's  life.  And  almost  immediately  the  latter  added, 

"  It  is  done,  then." 

"  May  the  God  of  Abraham  help  us !"  Simonides  ex 
claimed. 

"  One  word  now,  my  friends,"  Ben-Hur  said,  more  cheer 
fully.  "  By  your  leave,  I  will  be  my  own  until  after  the 
games.  It  is  not  probable  Messala  will  set  peril  on  foot 
for  me  until  he  has  given  the  procurator  time  to  answer 
him ;  and  that  cannot  be  in  less  than  seven  days  from  the 
despatch  of  his  letter.  The  meeting  him  in  the  Circus  is 
a  pleasure  I  would  buy  at  whatever  risk." 

Ilderim,  well  pleased,  assented  readily,  and  Simonides, 
intent  on  business,  added,  "  It  is  well ;  for  look  you,  my 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  339 

mast  r,  the  delay  will  give  me  time  to  do  you  a  good  part. 
1  understood  you  to  speak  of  an  inheritance  derived  from 
Arrius.  Is  it  in  property  ?" 

"  A  villa  near  Misenum,  and  houses  in  Rome." 

"  I  suggest,  then,  the  sale  of  the  property,  and  safe  de 
posit  of  the  proceeds.  Give  me  an  account  of  it,  and  I  will 
have  authorities  drawn,  and  despatch  an  agent  on  the  mis 
sion  forthwith.  We  will  forestall  the  imperial  robbers  at 
least  this  once." 
,  "  You  shall  have  the  account  to-morrow." 

"  Then,  if  there  be  nothing  more,  the  work  of  the  night 
is  done,"  said  Simonides. 

Ilderim  combed  his  beard  complacently,  saying,  "  And 
well  done." 

"  The  bread  and  wine  again,  Esther.  Sheik  Ilderim  will 
make  us  happy  by  staying  with  us  till  to-morrow,  or  at  his 
pleasure  ;  and  thou,  my  master — " 

"  Let  the  horses  be  brought,"  said  Ben-IIur.  "  I  will  re 
turn  to  the  Orchard.  The  enemy  will  not  discover  me  if 
I  go  now,  and" — he  glanced  at  Ilderim — "  the  four  will  be 
glad  to  see  me." 

As  the  day  dawned,  he  and  Malluch  dismounted  at  the 
door  of  the  tent. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

NEXT  night,  about  the  fourth  hour,  Ben-IIur  stood  on  the 
terrace  of  the  great  warehouse  with  Esther.  Below  them, 
on  the  landing,  there  was  much  running  about,  and  shift 
ing  of  packages  and  boxes,  and  shouting  of  men,  whose 
figures,  stooping,  heaving,  hauling,  looked,  in  the  light  of 
the  crackling  torches  kindled  in  their  aid,  like  the  laboring 
genii  of  the  fantastic  Eastern  tales.  A  galley  was  being 
laden  for  instant  departure.  Simonides  had  not  yet  come 
from  his  office,  in  which,  at  the  last  moment,  he  would  de 
liver  to  the  captain  of  the  vessel  instructions  to  proceed 
without  stop  to  Ostia,  the  seaport  of  Rome,  and,  after  land 
ing  a  passenger  there,  continue  more  leisurely  to  Valentia, 
on  the  coast  of  Spain. 


340  BEN-HUE:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

The  passenger  is  the  agent  going  to  dispose  of  the  estate 
derived  from  Arrius  the  duumvir.  When  the  lines  of  the 
vessel  are  cast  off,  and  she  is  put  about,  and  her  voyage 
begun,  Ben-Hur  will  be  committed  irrevocably  to  the  work 
undertaken  the  night  before.  If  he  is  disposed  to  repent 
the  agreement  with  Ilderim,  a  little  time  is  allowed  him  to 
give  notice  and  break  it  off.  lie  is  master,  and  has  only 
to  say  the  Avord. 

Such  may  have  been  the  thought  at  the  moment  in  his 
mind.  He  was  standing  with  folded  arms,  looking  upon 
the  scene  in  the  manner  of  a  man  debating  with  himself. 
Young,  handsome,  rich,  but  recently  from  the  patrician  cir 
cles  of  Roman  society,  it  is  easy  to  think  of  the  world  be 
setting  him  with  appeals  not  to  give  more  to  onerous  duty 
or  ambition  attended  with  outlawry  and  danger.  We  can 
even  imagine  the  arguments  with  which  he  was  pressed ; 
the  hopelessness  of  contention  with  Ca?sar ;  the  uncertainty 
veiling  everything  connected  with  the  King  and  his  com 
ing  ;  the  ease,  honors,  state,  purchasable  like  goods  in  mar 
ket  ,  and,  strongest  of  all,  the  sense  newly  acquired  of  home, 
with  friends  to  make  it  delightful.  .Only  those  who  have 
been  Avanderers  long  desolate  can  know  the  power  there 
was  in  the  latter  appeal. 

Let  us  add  now,  the  world — always  cunning  enough  of 
itself ;  always  whispering  to  the  weak,  Stay,  take  thine  ease ; 
always  presenting  the  sunny  side  of  life — the  world  was 
in  this  instance  helped  by  Ben-Hur's  companion. 

"  W^ere  you  ever  at  Rome  ?"-  he  asked. 

"  No,"  Esther  replied. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  ?" 

"  I  think  not." 

«  Why  ?" 

"  I  am  afraid  of  Rome,"  she  answered,  with  a  perceptible 
tremor  of  the  voice. 

He  looked  at  her  then — or  rather  down  upon  her,  for  at 
his  side  she  appeared  little  more  than  a  child.  In  the  dim 
light  he  could  not  see  her  face  distinctly ;  even  the  form 
was  shadowy.  But  again  he  was  reminded  of  Tirzah,  and 
a  sudden  tenderness  fell  upon  him — just  so  the  lost  sister 
stood  with  him  on  the  house-top  the  calamitous  morning 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  341 

of  the  accident  to  Gratus.  Poor  Tirzah  !  Where  was  she 
now  ?  Esther  had  the  benefit  of  the  feeling  evoked.  If 
not  his  sister,  lie  could  never  look  upon  her  as  his  servant ; 
and  that  she  was  his  servant  in  fact  would  make  him  al 
ways  the  more  considerate  and  gentle  towards  her. 

"  I  cannot  think  of  Rome,"  she  continued,  recovering 
her  voice,  and  speaking  Mn  her  quiet,  womanly  way — "  I 
cannot  think  of  Rome  as  a  city  of  palaces  and  temples,  and 
crowded  with  people ;  she  is  to  me  a  monster  which  has 
possession  of  one  of  the  beautiful  lands,  and  lies  there 
luring  men  to  ruin  and  death — a  monster  which  it  is  not 
possible  to  resist — a  ravenous  beast  gorging  with  blood. 
Why—" 

She  faltered,  looked  down,  stopped. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Ben-Hur,  reassuringly. 

She  drew  closer  to  him,  looked  up  again,  and  said, 
"  Why  must  you  make  her  your  enemy  ?  Why  not  rather 
make  peace  with  her,  and  be  at  rest  ?  You  have  had  many 
ills,  and  borne  them  ;  you  have  survived  the  snares  laid  for 
you  by  foes.  Sorrow  has  consumed  your  youth ;  is  it  well 
to  give  it  the  remainder  of  your  days  ?" 

The  girlish  face  under  his  eyes  seemed  to  come  nearer 
and  get  whiter  as  the  pleading  went  on ;  he  stooped  tow 
ards  it,  and  asked,  softly,  "  What  would  you  have  me  do, 
Esther  ?" 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  then  asked,  in  return,  "  Is  the 
property  near  Rome  a  residence  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  pretty  ?" 

"  It  is  beautiful — a  palace  in  the  midst  of  gardens  and 
shell-strewn  walks ;  fountains  without  and  within ;  statu 
ary  in  the  shady  nooks ;  hills  around  covered  with  vines, 
and  so  high  that  Neapolis  and  Vesuvius  are  in  sight,  and 
the  sea  an  expanse  of  purpling  blue  dotted  with  restless 
sails.  Caesar  has  a  country-seat  near  by,  but  in  Rome  they 
say  the  old  Arrian  villa  is  the  prettiest." 

"  And  the  life  there,  is  it  quiet  ?" 

"  There  was  never  a  summer  day,  never  a  moonlit  night, 
more  quiet,  save  when  visitors  come.  Now  that  the  old 
owner  is  gone,  and  I  am  here,  there  is  nothing  to  break  its 


342  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

silence — nothing,  unless  it  be  the  whispering  of  servants, 
or  the  whistling  of  happy  birds,  or  the  noise  of  fountains 
at  play  ;  it  is  changeless,  except  as  day  by  day  old  flowers 
fade  and  fall,  and  new  ones  bud  and  bloom,  and  the  sun 
light  gives  place  to  the  shadow  of  a  passing  cloud.  The 
life,  Esther,  was  all  too  quiet  for  me.  It  made  me  restless 
by  keeping  always  present  a  feeling  that  I,  who  have  so 
much  to  do,  was  dropping  into  idle  habits,  and  tying  my 
self  with  silken  chains,  and  after  a  while — and  not  a  long 
while  either — would  end  with  nothing  done." 

She  looked  off  over  the  river. 

"  Why  did  you  ask  ?"  he  said. 

"  Good  my  master — 

"  No,  no,  Esther — not  that.  Call  me  friend — brother,  if 
you  will ;  I  am  not  your  master,  and  will  not  be.  Call  me 
brother." 

He  could  not  see  the  flush  of  pleasure  which  reddened 
her  face,  and  the  glow  of  the  eyes  that  went  out  lost  in  the 
void  above  the  river. 

"  I  cannot  understand,"  she  said,  "  the  nature  which  pre 
fers  the  life  you  are  going  to — a  life — " 

"  Of  violence,  and  it  may  be  of  blood,"  he  said,  complet 
ing  the  sentence. 

"  Yes,"  she  added,  "  the  nature  which  could  prefer  that 
life  to  such  as  might  be  in  the  beautiful  villa." 

"  Esther,  you  mistake.  There  is  no  preference.  Alas  ! 
the  Roman  is  not  so  kind.  I  am  going  of  necessity.  To 
stay  here  is  to  die ;  and  if  I  go  there,  the  end  will  be  the 
same  —  a  poisoned  cup,  a  bravo's  blow,  or  a  judge's  sen 
tence  obtained  by  perjury.  Messala  and  the  procurator 
Gratus  are  rich  with  plunder  of  my  father's  estate,  and  it 
is  more  important  to  them  to  keep  their  gains  now  than 
was  their  getting  in  the  first  instance.  A  peaceable  settle 
ment  is  out  of  reach,  because  of  the  confession  it  would 
I  imply.  And  then — then —  Ah,  Esther,  if  I  could  buy 
them,  I  do  not  know  that  I  would.  I  do  not  believe  peace 
possible  to  me  ;  no,  not  even  in  the  sleepy  shade  and  sweet 
air  of  the  marble  porches  of  the  old  villa — no  matter  who 
might  be  there  to  help  me  bear  the  burdens  of  the  days, 
nor  by  what  patience  of  love  she  made  the  effort.  Peace 


BEN-IIUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  343 

is  not  possible  to  me  while  my  people  are  lost,  for  I  must 
be  watchful  to  find  them.  If  I  find  them,  and  they  have 
suffered  wrong,  shall  not  the  guilty  suffer  for  it  ?  If  they 
are  dead  by  violence,  shall  the  murderers  escape  ?  Oh,  I 
could  not  sleep  for  dreams  !^  Nor  could  the  holiest  love, 
by  any  stratagem,  lull  me  to  a  rest  which  eonscience  would 
not  strangle." 

"  Is  it  so  bad  then  ?"  she  asked,  her  voice  tremulous  with 
feeling.  "  Can  nothing,  nothing,  be  done  ?" 

Ben-Hur  took  her  hand. 

"  Do  you  care  so  much  for  me  ?" 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  simply. 

The  hand  was  warm,  and  in  the  palm  of  his  it  was  lost. 
He  felt  it  tremble.  Then  the  Egyptian  came,  so  the  oppo 
site  of  this  little  one  ;  so  tall,  so  audacious,  with  a  flattery 
so  cunning,  a  wit  so  ready,  a  beauty  so  wonderful,  a  man 
ner  so  bewitching.  He  carried  the  hand  to  his  lips,  and 
gave  it  back. 

"  You  shall  be  another  Tirzah  to  me,  Esther." 

"  Who  is  Tirzah  ?" 

"  The  little  sister  the  Roman  stole  from  me,  and  whom 
I  must  find  before  I  can  rest  or  be  happy." 

Just  then  a  gleam  of  light  flashed  athwart  the  terrace 
and  fell  upon  the  two ;  and,  looking  round,  they  saw  a 
servant  roll  Simonides  in  his  chair  out  of  the  door.  They 
went  to  the  merchant,  and  in  the  after-talk  he  was  prin 
cipal. 

Immediately  the  lines  of  the  galley  were  cast  off,  and 
she  swung  round,  and,  midst  the  flashing  of  torches  and 
the  shouting  of  joyous  sailors,  hurried  off  to  the  sea — leav 
ing  Ben-JIur  committed  to  the  cause  of  the  KING  WHO  WAS 
TO  COME.  

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  day  before  the  games,  in  the  afternoon,  all  Ilderim's 
racing  property  was  taken  to  the  city,  and  put  in  quarters 
adjoining  the  Circus.  Along  with  it  the  good  man  carried 
a  great  deal  of  property  not  of  that  class  ;  so  with  servants, 
retainers  mounted  and  armed,  horses  in  leading,  cattle 


344  BEN-HUB:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

driven,  camels  laden  with  baggage,  his  outgoing  from  the 
Orchard  was  not  unlike  a  tribal  migration.  The  people 
along  the  road  failed  not  to  laugh  at  his  motley  procession  ; 
on  the  other  side,  it  was  observed  that,  with  all  his  irasci 
bility,  he  was  not  in  the  lea^  offended  by  their  rudeness. 
If  he  was  under  surveillance,  as  he  had  reason  to  believe, 
the  informer  would  describe  the  semi-barbarous  show  with 
which  he  came  up  to  the  races.  The  Romans  would  laugh  ; 
the  city  would  be  amused ;  but  what  cared  he  ?  Next 
morning  the  pageant  would  be  far  on  the  road  to  the  des 
ert,  and  going  with  it  would  be  every  movable  thing  of 
value  belonging  to  the  Orchard — everything  save  such  as 
were  essential  to  the  success  of  his  four.  He  was,  in  fact, 
started  home  ;  his  tents  were  all  folded  ;  the  dowar  was  no 
more ;  in  twelve  hours  all  would  be  out  of  reach,  pursue 
who  might.  Ajnan  is  never  safer_than  when  he  is  under 
the  laugh  [  and  the  shrewd  old^Srab  knew  it. 

^Neither  he  nor  Ben-Hur  overestimated  the  influence  of 
Messala ;  it  was  their  opinion,  however,  that  he  would  not 
begin  active  measures  against  them  until  after  the  meeting 
in  the  Circus ;  if  defeated  there,  especially  if  defeated  by 
Ben-Hur,  they  might  instantly  look  for  the  worst  he  could 
do  ;  he  might  not  even  wait  for  advices  from  Gratus.  With 
this  view,  they  shaped  their  course,  and  were  prepared  to 
betake  themselves  out  of  harm's  way.  They  rode  together 
now  in  good  spirits,  calmly  confident  of  success  on  the 
morrow. 

On  the  way,  they  came  upon  Malluch  in  waiting  for  them. 
The  faithful  fellow  gave  no  sign  by  which  it  was  possible 
to  infer  any  knowledge  on  his  part  of  the  relationship  so 
recently  admitted  between  Ben-Hur  and  Simonides,  or  of 
the  treaty  between  them  and  Ilderim.  He  exchanged  salu 
tations  as  usual,  and  produced  a  paper,  saying  to  the  sheik, 
"  I  have  here  the  notice  of  the  editor  of  the  games,  just 
issued,  in  which  you  will  find  your  horses  published  for 
the  race.  You  will  find  in  it  also  the  order  of  exercises. 
Without  waiting,  good  sheik,  I  congratulate  you  upon 
your  victory." 

He  gave  the  paper  over,  and,  leaving  the  worthy  to  mas 
ter  it,  turned  to  Ben-Hur. 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  345 

"  To  you,  also,  son  of  Arrius,  my  congratulations.  There 
is  nothing  now  to  prevent  your  meeting  Messala.  Every 
condition  preliminary  to  the  race  is  complied  with.  I 
have  the  assurance  from  the  editor  himself." 

"  I  thank  you,  Malluch,"  said  Ben-Hur. 

Malluch  proceeded : 

"  Your  color  is  white,  and  Messala's  mixed  scarlet  and 
gold.  The  good  effects  of  the  choice  are  visible  already. 
Boys  are  now  hawking  white  ribbons  along  the  streets ; 
to-morrow  every  Arab  and  Jew  in  the  city  will  wear  them. 
In  the  Circus  you  will  see  the  white  fairly  divide  the  gal 
leries  with  the  red." 

"The  galleries — but  not  the  tribunal  over  the  Porta 
Pompa3." 

"  No ;  the  scarlet  and  gold  will  rule  there.  But  if  we 
win" — Malluch  chuckled  with  the  pleasure  of  the  thought 
— "  if  we  win,  how  the  dignitaries  will  tremble  !  They 
will  bet,  of  course,  according  to  their  scorn  of  everything 
not  Roman — two,  three,  five  to  one  on  Messala,  because 
he  is  Roman."  Dropping  his  voice  yet  lower,  he  added, 
"  It  ill  becomes  a  Jew  of  good  standing  in  the  Temple  to 
put  his  money  at  such  a  hazard ;  yet,  in  confidence,  I  will 
have  a  friend  next  behind  the  consul's  seat  to  accept  offers 
of  three  to  one,  or  five,  or  ten — the  madness  may  go  to 
such  height.  I  have  put  to  his  order  six  thousand  shekels 
for  the  purpose." 

"  Nay,  Malluch,"  said  Ben-Hur,  "  a  Roman  will  wager 
only  in  his  Roman  coin.  Suppose  you  find  your  friend 
to-night,  and  place  to  his  order  sestertii  in  such  amount 
as  you  choose.  And  look  you,  Malluch — let  him  be  in 
structed  to  seek  wagers  with  Messala  and  his  supporters ; 
Ilderim's  four  against  Messala's." 

Malluch  reflected  a  moment. 

"  The  effect  will  be  to  centre  interest  upon  your  contest." 

"  The  very  thing  I  seek,  Malluch." 

"  I  see,  I  see." 

"  Ay,  Malluch ;  would  you  serve  me  perfectly,  help  me 
to  fix  the  public  eye  upon  our  race — Messala's  and  mine." 

Malluch  spoke  quickly — "  It  can  be  done." 

"  Then  let  it  be  done,"  said  Ben-llur. 


346  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  Enormous  wagers  offered  will  answer ;  if  the  offers  are 
accepted,  all  the  better." 

Malluch  turned  his  eyes  watchfully  upon  Ben-Hur. 

"  Shall  I  not  have  back  the  equivalent  of  his  robbery  ?" 
said  Ben-Hur,  partly  to  himself.  "Another  opportunity 
may  not  come.  And  if  I  could  break  him  in  fortune  as 
well  as  in  pride  !  Our  father  Jacob  could  take  no  offence." 

A  look  of  determined  will  knit  his  handsome  face,  giv 
ing  emphasis  to  his  further  speech. 

"  Yes,  it  shall  be.  Hark,  Malluch !  Stop  not  in  thy 
offer  of  sestertii.  Advance  them  to  talents,  if  any  there 
be  who  dare  so  high.  Five,  ten,  twenty  talents  ;  ay,  fifty, 
so  the  wager  be  with  Messala  himself." 

u  It  is  a  mighty  sum,"  said  Malluch.  "  I  must  have 
security." 

"  So  thou  shalt.  Go  to  Simonides,  and  tell  him  I  wish 
the  matter  arranged.  Tell  him  my  heart  is  set  on  the  ruin 
of  my  enemy,  and  that  the  opportunity  hath  such  excellent 
promise  that  I  choose  such  hazards.  On  our  side  be  the 
God  of  our  fathers.  Go,  good  Malluch.  Let  this  not  slip." 

And  Malluch,  greatly  delighted,  gave  him  parting  saluta 
tion,  and  started  to  ride  away,  but  returned  presently. 

"  Your  pardon,"  he  said  to  Ben-Hur.  "  There  was  an 
other  matter.  I  could  not  get  near  Messala's  chariot  my 
self,  but  I  had  another  measure  it ;  and,  from  his  report, 
its  hub  stands  quite  a  palm  higher  from  the  ground  than 
yours." 

"  A  palm  !     So  much  ?"  cried  Ben-IIur,  joyfully. 

Then  he  leaned  over  to  Malluch. 

"  As  thou  art  a  son  of  Judah,  Malluch,  and  faithful  to 
thy  kin,  get  thee  a  seat  in  the  gallery  over  the  Gate  of  Tri 
umph,  down  close  to  the  balcony  in  front  of  the  pillars, 
and  watch  well  when  we  make  the  turns  there  ;  watch  well, 
for  if  I  have  favor  at  all,  I  will —  Nay,  Malluch,  let  it  go 
unsaid  !  Only  get  thee  there,  and  watch  well." 

At  that  moment  a  cry  burst  from  Ilderim. 

"  Ha !     By  the  splendor  of  God  !  what  is  this  ?" 

He  drew  near  Ben-Hur  with  a  finger  pointing  on  the 
face  of  the  notice. 

"  Read,"  said  Ben-Hur. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  347 

"  No  ;  better  thou." 

Ben-Hur  took  the  paper,  which,  signed  by  the  prefect 
of  the  province  as  editor,  performed  the  office  of  a  modern 
programme,  giving  particularly  the  several  divertisements 
provided  for  the  occasion.  It  informed  the  public  that 
there  would  be  first  a  procession  of  extraordinary  splendor ; 
that  the  procession  would  be  succeeded  by  the  customary 
honors  to  the  god  Census,  whereupon  the  games  would  be 
gin  ;  running,  leaping,  wrestling,  boxing,  each  in  the  cfrder 
stated.  The  names  of  the  competitors  were  given,  with 
their  several  nationalities  and  schools  of  training,  the  trials 
in  which  they  had  been  engaged,  the  prizes  won,  and  the 
prizes  now  offered ;  under  the  latter  head  the  sums  of 
money  were  stated  in  illuminated  letters,  telling  of  the  de 
parture  of  the  day  when  the  simple  chaplet  of  pine  or  laurel 
was  fully  enough  for  the  victor,  hungering  for  glory  as 
something  better  than  riches,  and  content  with  it. 

Over  these  parts  of  the  programme  Ben-Hur  sped  with 
rapid  eyes.  At  last  he  came  to  the  announcement  of  the 
race.  He  read  it  slowly.  Attending  lovers  of  the  heroic 
sports  were  assured  they  would  certainly  be  gratified  by 
an  Orestean  struggle  unparalleled  in  Antioch.  The  city 
offered  the  spectacle  in  honor  of  the  consul.  One  hundred 
thousand  sestertii  and  a  crown  of  laurel  were  the  prizes. 
Then  followed  the  particulars.  The  entries  were  six  in  all 
— fours  only  permitted ;  and,  to  further  interest  in  the 
performance,  the  competitors  would  be  turned  into  the 
course  together.  Each  four  then  received  description. 

"  I.  A  four  of  Lysippus  the  Corinthian — two  grays,  a  bay,  and  a 
black ;  entered  at  Alexandria  last  year,  and  again  at  Corinth,  where 
they  were  winners.  Lysippus,  driver.  Color,  yellow. 

"  II.  A  four  of  Messala  of  Rome — two  white,  two  black  ;  victors  of 
the  Circensian  as  exhibited  in  the  Circus  Maximus  last  year.  Messala, 
driver.  Colors,  scarlet  and  gold. 

"  III.  A  four  of  Cleanthes  the  Athenian — three  gray,  one  bay ;  win 
ners  at  the  Isthmian  last  year.  Cleanthes,  driver.  Color,  green. 

"IV.  A  four  of  Dicaeus  the  Byzantine — two  black,  one  gray,  one 
bay ;  winners  this  year  at  Byzantium.  Dicacus,  driver.  Color,  black. 

"  V.  A  four  of  Admetus  the  Sidonian — all  grays.  Thrice  entered 
at  Caesarea,  and  thrice  victors.  Admetus,  driver.  Color,  blue. 

"  VI.  A  foui'  of  Ilderim,  sheik  of  the  Desert.  All  bays  ;  first  race. 
Ben-Hur,  a  Jew,  driver.  Color,  white." 


-    348  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

Ben-Hur,  a  Jew,  driver  f 

Y/hy  that  name  instead  of  Arrius  ? 

Ben-Hur  raised  his  eyes  to  Ilderim.  He  had  found  the 
cause  of  the  Arab's  outcry.  Both  rushed  to  the  same 
conclusion. 

The  hand  was  the  hand  of  Messala! 


CHAPTER  XI. 

EVENING  was  hardly  come  upon  Antioch,  when  the  Om- 
phalus,  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  became  a  troubled 
fountain  from  which  in  every  direction,  but  chiefly  down 
to  the  Nymphseum  and  east  and  west  along  the  Colonnade 
of  Herod,  flowed  currents  of  people,  for  the  time  given  up 
to  Bacchus  and  Apollo. 

For  such  indulgence  anything  more  fitting  cannot  be 
imagined  than  the  great  roofed  streets,  which  were  liter 
ally  miles  on  miles  of  porticos  wrought  of  marble,  polished 
to  the  last  degree  of  finish,  and  all  gifts  to  the  voluptuous 
city  by  princes  careless  of  expenditure  where,  as  in  this 
instance,  they  thought  they  were  eternizing  themselves. 
Darkness  was  not  permitted  anywhere ;  and  the  singing, 
the  laughter,  the  shouting,  were  incessant,  and  in  compound 
like  the  roar  of  waters  dashing  through  hollow  grots,  con 
fused  by  a  multitude  of  echoes. 

The  many  nationalities  represented,  though  they  might 
have  amazed  a  stranger,  were  not  peculiar  to  Antioch.  Of 
the  various  missions  of  the  great  empire,  one  seems  to  have 
been  the  fusion  of  men  and  the  introduction  of  strangers 
to  each  other ;  accordingly,  whole  peoples  rose  up  and 
went  at  pleasure,  taking  with  them  their  costumes,  cus 
toms,  speech,  and  gods ;  and  where  they  chose,  they 
stopped,  engaged  in  business,  built  houses,  erected  altars, 
and  were  what  they  had  been  at  home. 

There  was  a  peculiarity,  however,  which  could  not  have 
failed  the  notice  of  a  looker-on  this  night  in  Antioch. 
Nearly  everybody  wore  the  colors  of  one  or  other  of  the 
charioteers  announced  for  the  morrow's  race.  Sometimes 
it  was  in  form  of  a  scarf,  sometimes  a  badge ;  often  a 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  349 

ribbon  or  a  feather.  Whatever  the  form,  it  signified 
merely  the  wearer's  partiality ;  thus,  green  published  a 
friend  of  Cleanthes  the  Athenian,  and  black  an  adherent 
of  the  Byzantine.  This  was  according  to  a  custom,  old 
probably  as  the  day  of  the  race  of  Orestes — a  custom,  by 
the  way,  worthy  of  study  as  a  marvel  of  history,  illustra 
tive  of  the  absurd  yet  appalling  extremities  to  which  men 
frequently  suffer  their  follies  to  drag  them. 

The  observer  abroad  on  this  occasion,  once  attracted  to 
the  wearing  of  colors,  would  have  very  shortly  decided 
that  there  were  three  in  predominance — green,  white,  and 
the  mixed  scarlet  and  gold. 

But  let  us  from  the  streets  to  the  palace  on  the  island. 

The  five  great  chandeliers  in  the  Saloon  are  freshly 
lighted.  The  assemblage  is  much  the  same  as  that  already 
noticed  in  connection  with  the  place.  The  divan  has  its 
corps  of  sleepers  and  burden  of  garments,  and  the  tables 
yet  resound  with  the  rattle  and  clash  of  dice.  Yet  the 
greater  part  of  the  company  are  not  doing  anything.  They 
walk  about,  or  yawn  tremendously,  or  pause  as  they  pass 
each  other  to  exchange  idle  nothings.  Will  the  weather 
be  fair  to-morrow  ?  Are  the  preparations  for  the  games 
complete  ?  Do  the  laws  of  the  Circus  in  Antioch  differ 
from  the  laws  of  the  Circus  in  Rome  ?  Truth  is,  the  young 
fellows  are  suffering  from  ennui.  Their  heavy  work  is 
done ;  that  is,  we  would  find  their  tablets,  could  we  look 
at  them,  covered  with  memoranda  of  wagers — wagers  on 
every  contest ;  on  the  running,  the  wrestling,  the  boxing ; 
on  everything  but  the  chariot-race. 

And  why  not  on  that  ? 

Good  reader,  they  cannot  find  anybody  who  will  hazard 
so  much  as  a  denarius  with  them  against  Mcssala. 

There  are  no  colors  in  the  saloon  but  his. 

Xo  one  thinks  of  his  defeat. 

Why,  they  say,  is  he  not  perfect  in  his  training  ?  Did 
he  not  graduate  from  an  imperial  lanista  ?  Were  not  his 
horses  winners  at  the  Circensian  in  the  Circus  Maximus  ? 
And  then — ah,  yes  !  he  is  a  Roman  ! 

In  a  corner,  at  ease  on  the  divan,  Mcssala  himself  may 
be  seen.  Around  him,  sitting  or  standing,  are  his  court- 


350  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ierly  admirers,  plying  him  with  questions.  There  is,  of 
course,  but  one  topic. 

Enter  Drusus  and  Cecilius. 

"  Ah  !"  cries  the  young  prince,  throwing  himself  on  the 
divan  at  Messala's  feet,  "  Ah,  by  Bacchus,  I  am  tired !" 

"  Whither  away  ?"  asks  Messala. 

"  Up  the  street ;  up  to  the  Omphalus,  and  beyond — who 
shall  say  how  far  ?  Rivers  of  people ;  never  so  many  in 
the  city  before.  They  say  we  will  see  the  whole  world  at 
the  Circus  to-morrow." 

Messala  laughed  scornfully. 

"  The  idiots  !  Perpol !  They  never  beheld  a  Circensian 
with  Caesar  for  editor.  But,  my  Drusus,  what  found  you  ?" 

"  Nothing." 

"  O — ah  !     You  forget,"  said  Cecilius. 

"  What  ?"  asked  Drusus. 

"  The  procession  of  whites." 

"  Mirabile  /"  cried  Drusus,  half  rising.  "  We  met  a  fac 
tion  of  whites,  and  they  had  a  banner.  But — ha,  ha,  ha  !" 

He  fell  back  indolently. 

"  Cruel  Drusus — not  to  go  on,"  said  Messala. 

"  Scum  of  the  desert  were  they,  my  Messala,  and  gar 
bage-eaters  from  the  Jacob's  Temple  in  Jerusalem.  What 
had  I  to  do  with  them  ?" 

"  Nay,"  said  Cecilius,  "  Drusus  is  afraid  of  a  laugh,  but  I 
am  not,  my  Messala." 

"  Speak  thou,  then." 

"  Well,  we  stopped  the  faction,  and — " 

"  Offered  them  a  wager,"  said  Drusus,  relenting,  and  tak 
ing  the  word  from  the  shadow's  mouth.  "  And  —  ha,  ha, 
ha ! — one  fellow  with  not  enough  skin  on  his  face  to  make 
a  worm  for  a  carp  stepped  forth,  and — ha,  ha,  ha  ! — said 
yes.  I  drew  my  tablets.  '  Who  is  your  man  ?'  I  asked. 
'  Ben-Hur,  the  Jew,'  said  he.  Then  I*:  <  What  shall  it  be  ? 
How  much  ?'  He  answered, '  A — a — '  Excuse  me,  Messala. 
By  Jove's  thunder,  I  cannot  go  on  for  laughter !  Ha,  ha, 
ha!" 

The  listeners  leaned  forward. 

Messala  looked  to  Cecilius. 

"  A  shekel,"  said  the  latter. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE    CHRIST.  351 

«  A  shekel !     A  shekel !" 

A  burst  of  scornful  laughter  ran  fast  upon  the  repeti 
tion. 

"  And  Avhat  did  Drusus  ?"  asked  Messala. 

An  outcry  over  about  the  door  just  then  occasioned  a 
rush  to  that  quarter  ;  and,  as  the  noise  there  continued,  and 
grew  louder,  even  Cecilius  betook  himself  off,  pausing  only 
to  say,  "  The  noble  Drusus,  my  Messala,  put  up  his  tablets 
and — lost  the  shekel." 

"  A  white  !     A  white  !" 

"  Let  him  come  !" 

"  This  way,  this  way  !" 

These  and  like  exclamations  filled  the  saloon,  to  the  stop 
page  of  other  speech.  The  dice-players  quit  their  games ; 
the  sleepers  awoke,  rubbed  their  eyes,  drew  their  tablets, 
and  hurried  to  the  common  centre. 

« I  offer  you—" 

«  And  I—" 

«  J " 

The  person  so  warmly  received  was  the  respectable  Jew, 
Ben-Hur's  fellow-voyager  from  Cyprus.  lie  entered  grave, 
quiet,  observant.  His  robe  was  spotlessly  white ;  so  was 
the  cloth  of  his  turban.  Bowing  and  smiling  at  the  wel 
come,  he  moved  slowly  towards  the  central  table.  Ar 
rived  there,  he  drew  his  robe  about  him  in  a  stately  man 
ner,  took  seat,  and  waved  his  hand.  The  gleam  of  a  jewel 
on  a  finger  helped  him  not  a  little  to  the  silence  which 
ensued. 

"  Romans — most  noble  Romans — I  salute  you  !"  he  said. 

"  Easy,  by  Jupiter !     Who  is  he  ?"  asked  Drusus. 

"A  dog  of  Israel  —  Sanballat  by  name  —  purveyor  for 
the  army ;  residence,  Rome ;  vastly  rich ;  grown  so  as  a 
contractor  of  furnishments  which  he  never  furnishes. 
He  spins  mischiefs,  nevertheless,  finer  than  spiders  spin 
their  webs.  Come — by  the  girdle  of  Venus  !  let  us  catch 
him !" 

Messala  arose  as  he  spoke,  and,  with  Drusus,  joined  the 
mass  crowded  about  the  purveyor. 

"  It  came  to  me  on  the  street,"  said  that  person,  produc 
ing  his  tablets,  and  opening  them  on  the  table  with  an  im- 


352  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

pressive  air  of  business,  "  that  there  was  great  discomfort 
in  the  palace  because  offers  on  Messala  were  going  without 
takers.  The  gods,  you  know,  must  have  sacrifices ;  and 
here  am  I.  You  see  my  color ;  let  us  to  the  matter.  Odds 
first,  amounts  next.  What  will  you  give  me  ?" 

The  audacity  seemed  to  stun  his  hearers. 

"  Haste  !"  he  said.  "  I  have  an  engagement  with  the 
consul." 

The  spur  was  effective. 

"  Two  to  one,"  cried  half  a  dozen  in  a  voice. 

"  AVhat !"  exclaimed  the  purveyor,  astonished.  "  Only 
two  to  one,  and  yours  a  Roman  !" 

"  Take  three,  then." 

"  Three  say  you — only  three — and  mine  but  a  dog  of  a 
Jew  !  Give  me  four." 

"  Four  it  is,"  said  a  boy,  stung  by  the  taunt. 

"  Five — give  me  five,"  cried  the  purveyor,  instantly. 

A  profound  stillness  fell  on  the  assemblage. 

"  The  consul — your  master  and  mine — is  waiting  for 
me." 

The  inaction  became  awkward  to  the  many. 

"  Give  me  five — for  the  honor  of  Rome,  five." 

"  Five  let  it  be,"  said  one  in  answer. 

There  was  a  sharp  cheer  —  a  commotion  —  and  Messala 
himself  appeared. 

"  Five  let  it  be,"  he  said. 

And  Sanballat  smiled,  and  made  ready  to  write. 

"If  Cajsar  die  to-morrow,"  he  said,  "Rome  will  not  be 
all  bereft.  There  is  at  least  one  other  with  spirit  to  take 
his  place.  Give  me  six." 

"  Six  be  it,"  answered  Messala. 

There  was  another  shout  louder  than  the  first. 

"  Six  be  it,"  repeated  Messala.  "  Six  to  one — the  differ 
ence  between  a  Roman  and  a  Jew.  And,  having  found  it, 
now,  O  redemptor  of  the  flesh  of  swine,  let  us  on.  The 
amount — and  quickly.  The  consul  may  send  for  thee,  and 
I  will  then  be  bereft." 

Sanbflllat  took  the  laugh  against  him  coolly,  and  wrote, 
and  offered  the  writing  to  Messala. 

"  Read,  read  !"  everybody  demanded. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  353 

And  Messala  read : 

"  Mem. — Chariot-race.  Messala  of  Rome,  in  wager  with  Sanballat, 
also  of  Rome,  says  he  will  beat  Ben-Hur,  the  Jew.  Amount  of  wager, 
twenty  talents.  Odds  to  Sanballat,  six  to  one. 

"  Witnesses :  SANBALLAT." 

There  was  no  noise,  no  motion.  Each  person  seemed 
held  in  the  pose  the  reading  found  him.  Messala  stared 
at  the  memorandum,  while  the  eyes  which  had  him  in 
view  opened  wide,  and  stared  at  him.  He  felt  the  gaze, 
and  thought  rapidly.  So  lately  he  stood  in  the  same 
place,  and  in  the  same  way  hectored  the  countrymen 
around  him.  They  would  remember  it.  If  he  refused  to 
sign,  his  heroship  was  lost.  And  sign  he  could  not ;  he 
was  not  worth  one  hundred  talents,  nor  the  fifth  part  of 
the  sum.  Suddenly  his  mind  became  a  blank ;  he  stood 
speechless ;  the  color  fled  his  face.  An  idea  at  last  came 
to  his  relief. 

"Thou  Jew  !"  he  said,  "  Where  hast  thou  twenty  talents  ? 
Show  me." 

Sanballat's  provoking  smile  deepened. 
.  "  There,"  he  replied,  offering  Messala  a  paper. 

"  Read,  read  !"  arose  all  around. 

Again  Messala  read : 

"At  ANTIOCII,  Tammuz  IGth  day. 

"The  bearer,  Sanballat  of  Rome,  hath  now  to  his  order  with  me 
fifty  talents,  coin  of  Caesar.  SIMONIDES." 

"  Fifty  talents,  fifty  talents !"  echoed  the  throng,  in 
amazement. 

Then  Drusus  came  to  the  rescue. 

"  By  Hercules !"  he  shouted,  "  the  paper  lies,  and  the 
Jew  is  a  liar.  Who  but  Cyesar  hath  fifty  talents  at  order  ? 
Down  with  the  insolent  white  !" 

The  cry  was  angry,  and  it  was  angrily  repeated ;  yet 
Sanballat  kept  his  seat,  and  his  smile  grew  more  exasper 
ating  the  longer  he  waited.  At  length  Messala  spoke. 

"  Hush  !  One  to  one,  my  countrymen — one  to  one,  for 
love  of  our  ancient  Roman  name." 

The  timely  action  recovered  him  his  ascendency. 

"  O  thou  circumcised  dog !"  he  continued,  to  Sanballat, 
"  I  gave  thee  six  to  one,  did  I  not  ?" 
23 


354  BEN-HUK:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Jew,  quietly. 

"  Well,  give  me  now  the  fixing  of  the  amount." 

"  With  reserve,  if  the  amount  be  trifling,  have  thy  will," 
answered  Sanballat. 

"  Write,  then,  five  in  place  of  twenty." 

"  Hast  thou  so  much  ?" 

"  By  the  mother  of  the  gods,  I  will  show  you  receipts." 

"  Nay,  the  word  of  so  brave  a  Roman  must  pass.  Only 
make  the  sum  even — six  make  it,  and  I  will  write." 

"  Write  it  so." 

And  forthwith  they  exchanged  writings. 

Sanballat  immediately  arose  and  looked  around  him,  a 
sneer  in  place  of  his  smile.  No  man  better  than  he  knew 
those  with  whom  he  was  dealing. 

"  Romans,"  he  said,  "  another  wager,  if  you  dare  !  Five 
talents  against  five  talents  that  the  white  will  win.  I  chal 
lenge  you  collectively." 

They  were  again  surprised. 

"  AVhat !"  he  cried,  louder.  "  Shall  it  be  said  in  the  Cir 
cus  to-morrow  that  a  dog  of  Israel  went  into  the  saloon  of 
the  palace  full  of  Roman  nobles — among  them  the  scion 
of  a  Caesar — and  laid  five  talents  before  them  in  challenge, 
and  they  had  not  the  courage  to  take  it  up  ?" 

The  sting  was  unendurable. 

"  Have  done,  O  insolent !"  said  Drusus,  "  write  the  chal 
lenge,  and  leave  it  on  the  table  ;  and  to-morrow,  if  we  find 
thou  hast  indeed  so  much  money  to  put  at  such  hopeless 
hazard,  I,  Drusus,  promise  it  shall  be  taken." 

Sanballat  wrote  again,  and,  rising,  said,  unmoved  as  ever, 
"  See,  Drusus,  I  leave  the  offer  with  you.  When  it  is 
signed,  send  it  to  me  any  time  before  the  race  begins.  I 
will  be  found  with  the  consul  in  a  seat  over  the  Porta 
Pompse.  Peace  to  you ;  peace  to  all." 

lie  bowed  and  departed,  careless  of  the  shout  of  deri 
sion  with  which  they  pursued  him  out  of  the  door. 

In  the  night  the  story  of  the  prodigious  wager  flew  along 
the  streets  and  over  the  city  ;  and  Ben-Hur,  lying  with  his 
four,  was  told  of  it,  and  also  that  Messala's  whole  fortune 
was  on  the  hazard. 

And  he  slept  never  so  soundly. 


BEX-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  TUB   CHRIST.  355 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  Circus  at  Antioch  stood  on  the  south  bank  of  the 
river  nearly  opposite  the  island,  differing  in  no  respect  from 
the  plan  of  such  buildings  in  general. 

In  the  purest  sense,  the  games  were  a  gift  to  the  public ; 
consequently,  everybody  was  free  to  attend  ;  and,  vast  as 
the  holding  capacity  of  the  structure  was,  so  fearful  were 
the  people,  on  this  occasion,  lest  there  should  not  be  room 
for  them,  that,  early  the  day  before  the  opening  of  the  ex 
hibition,  they  took  up  all  the  vacant  spaces  in  the  vicinity, 
•where  their  temporary  shelter  suggested  an  army  in  wait 
ing. 

At  midnight  the  entrances  were  thrown  wide,  and  the 
rabble,  surging  in,  occupied  the  quarters  assigned  to  them, 
from  which  nothing  less  than  an  earthquake  or  an  army 
with  spears  could  have  dislodged  them.  They  dozed  the 
night  away  on  the  benches,  and  breakfasted  there ;  and 
there  the  close  of  the  exercises  found  them,  patient  and 
sight-hungry  as  in  the  beginning. 

The  better  people,  their  seats  secured,  began  moving 
towards  the  Circus  about  the  first  hour  of  the  morning, 
the  noble  and  very  rich  among  them  distinguished  by  lit 
ters  and  retinues  of  liveried  servants. 

By  the  second  hour,  the  efflux  from  the  city  was  a  stream 
unbroken  and  innumerable. 

Exactly  as  the  gnomon  of  the  official  dial  up  in  the  cita 
del  pointed  the  second  hour  half  gone,  the  legion,  in  full 
panoply,  and  with  all  its  standards  on  exhibit,  descended 
from  Mount  Sulpius ;  and  when  the  rear  of  the  last  cohort 
disappeared  in  the  bridge,  Antioch  was  literally  abandoned 
— not  that  the  Circus  could  hold  the  multitude,  but  that 
the  multitude  was  gone  out  to  it,  nevertheless. 

A  great  concourse  on  the  river  shore  witnessed  the  con 
sul  come  over  from  the  island  in  a  barge  of  state.  As  the 
great  man  landed,  and  was  received  by  the  legion,  the  mar- 


356  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

tial  show  for  one  brief  moment  transcended  the  attraction 
of  the  Circus. 

At  the  third  hour,  the  audience,  if  such  it  may  be  termed, 
was  assembled ;  at  last,  a  flourish  of  trumpets  called  for 
silence,  and  instantly  the  gaze  of  over  a  hundred  thousand 
persons  was  directed  towards  a  pile  forming  the  eastern 
section  of  the  building. 

There  was  a  basement  first,  broken  in  the  middle  by  a 
broad  arched  passage,  called  the  Porta  Pompse,  over  which, 
on  an  elevated  tribunal  magnificently  decorated  with  insig 
nia  and  legionary  standards,  the  consul  sat  in  the  place  of 
honor.  On  both  sides  of  the  passage  the  basement  was 
divided  into  stalls  termed  carceres,  each  protected  in  front 
by  massive  gates  swung  to  statuesque  pilasters.  Over  the 
stalls  next  was  a  cornice  crowned  by  a  low  balustrade ; 
back  of  which  the  seats  arose  in  theatre  arrangement,  all 
occupied  by  a  throng  of  dignitaries  superbly  attired. 
The  pile  extended  the  width  of  the  Circus,  and  was  flanked 
on  both  sides  by  towers  which,  besides  helping  the  archi 
tects  give  grace  to  their  work,  served  the  velaria,  or  pur 
ple  awnings,  stretched  between  them  so  as  to  throw  the 
whole  quarter  in  a  shade  that  became  exceedingly  grateful 
as  the  day  advanced. 

This  structure,  it  is  now  thought,  can  be  made  useful  in 
helping  the  reader  to  a  sufficient  understanding  of  the  ar 
rangement  of  the  rest  of  the  interior  of  the  Circus.  He 
has  only  to  fancy  himself  seated  on  the  tribunal  with  the 
consul,  facing  to  the  west,  where  everything  is  under  his 
eye. 

On  the  right  and  left,  if  he  will  look,  he  will  see  the 
main  entrances,  very  ample,  and  guarded  by  gates  hinged 
to  the  towers. 

Directly  below  him  is  the  arena — a  level  plane  of  con 
siderable  extent,  covered  with  fine  white  sand.  There  all 
the  trials  will  take  place  except  the  running. 

Looking  across  this  sanded  arena  westwardly  still,  there 
is  a  pedestal  of  marble  supporting  three  low  conical  pillars 
of  gray  stone,  much  carven.  Many  an  eye  will  hunt  for 
those  pillars  before  the  day  is  done,  for  they  are  the  first 
goal,  and  mark  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  race-course. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  357 

Behind  the  pedestal,  leaving  a  passage-way  and  space  for 
an  altar,  commences  a  wall  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  breadth 
and  five  or  six  in  height,  extending  thence  exactly  two 
hundred  yards,  or  one  Olympic  stadium.  At  the  farther, 
or  westward,  extremity  of  the  wall  there  is  another  pedes 
tal,  surmounted  with  pillars  which  mark  the  second  goal. 

The  racers  will  enter  the  course  on  the  right  of  the  first 
goal,  and  keep  the  wall  all  the  time  to  their  left.  The  be 
ginning  and  ending  points  of  the  contest  lie,  consequently, 
directly  in  front  of  the  consul  across  the  arena ;  and  for 
that  reason  his  seat  was  admittedly  the  most  desirable  in 
the  Circus. 

Now  if  the  reader,  who  is  still  supposed  to  be  seated  on 
the  consular  tribunal  over  the  Porta  Pompse,  will  look  up 
from  the  ground  arrangement  of  the  interior,  the  first  point 
to  attract  his  notice  will  be  the  marking  of  the  outer  bound 
ary-line  of  the  course — that  is,  a  plain-faced,  solid  wall, 
fifteen  or  twenty  feet  in  height,  with  a  balustrade  on  its 
cope,  like  that  over  the  carceres,  or  stalls,  in  the  east.  This 
balcony,  if  followed  round  thejcourse,  will  be  found  broken 
in  three  places  to  allow  passages  of  exit  and  entrance,  two 
in  the  north  and  one  in  the  west ;  the  latter  very  ornate, 
and  called  the  Gate  of  Triumph,  because,  when  all  is  over, 
the  victors  will  pass  out  that  way,  crowned,  and  with 
triumphal  escort  and  ceremonies. 

At  the  west  end  the  balcony  encloses  the  course  in  the 
form  of  a  half  -  circle,  and  is  made  to  uphold  two  great 
galleries. 

Directly  behind  the  balustrade  on  the  coping  of  the  bal 
cony  is  the  first  seat,  from  which  ascend  the  succeeding 
benches,  each  higher  than  the  one  in  front  of  it ;  giving  to 
view  a  spectacle  of  surpassing  interest — the  spectacle  of  a 
vast  space  ruddy  and  glistening  with  human  faces,  and  rich 
with  vari-colored  costumes. 

The  commonalty  occupy  quarters  over  in  the  west,  be 
ginning  at  the  point  of  termination  of  an  awning,  stretched, 
it  would  seem,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  better  classes 
exclusively. 

Having  thus  the  whole  interior  of  the  Circus  under  view 
at  the  moment  of  the  sounding  of  the  trumpets,  let  the 


358  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

reader  next  imagine  the  multitude  seated  and  sunk  to  sud 
den  silence,  and  motionless  in  its  intensity  of  interest. 

Out  of  the  Porta  Pompa3  over  in  the  east  rises  a  sound 
mixed  of  voices  and  instruments  harmonized.  Presently, 
forth  issues  the  chorus  of  the  procession  with  which  the 
celebration  begins  ;  the  editor  and  civic  authorities  of  the 
city,  givers  of  the  games,  follow  in  robes  and  garlands ; 
then  the  gods,  some  on  platforms  borne  by  men,  others  in 
great  four-wheel  carriages  gorgeously  decorated ;  next  them, 
again,  the  contestants  of  the  day,  each  in  costume  exactly 
as  he  will  run,  wrestle,  leap,  box,  or  drive. 

Slowly  crossing  the  arena,  the  procession  proceeds  to 
make  circuit  of  the  course.  The  display  is  beautiful  and 
imposing.  Approval  runs  before  it  in  a  shout,  as  the  water 
rises  and  swells  in  front  of  a  boat  in  motion.  If  the  dumb, 
figured  gods  make  no  sign  of  appreciation  of  the  welcome, 
the  editor  and  his  associates  are  not  so  backward. 

The  reception  of  the  athletes  is  even  more  demonstrative, 
for  there  is  not  a  man  in  the  assemblage  who  has  not  some 
thing  in  wager  upon  them,  ^though  but  a  mite  or  farthing. 
And  it  is  noticeable,  as  the  classes  move  by,  that  the  fa 
vorites  among  them  are  speedily  singled  out :  either  their 
names  are  loudest  in  the  uproar,  or  they  are  more  pro 
fusely  showered  with  wreaths  and  garlands  tossed  to  them 
from  the  balcony. 

If  there  is  a  question  as  to  the  popularity  with  the  pub 
lic  of  the  several  games,  it  is  now  put  to  rest.  To  the 
splendor  of  the  chariots  and  the  superexcellent  beauty  of 
the  horses,  the  charioteers  add  the  personality  necessary  to 
perfect  the  charm  of  their  display.  Their  tunics,  short, 
sleeveless,  and  of  the  finest  woollen  texture,  are  of  the  as 
signed  colors.  A  horseman  accompanies  each  one  of  them 
except  Ben-Hur,  who,  for  some  reason — possibly  distrust — 
has  chosen  to  go  alone ;  so,  too,  they  are  all  helmeted  but 
him.  As  they  approach,  the  spectators  stand  upon  the 
benches,  and  there  is  a  sensible  deepening  of  the  clamor, 
in  which  a  sharp  listener  may  detect  the  shrill  piping  of 
women  and  children  ;  at  the  same  time,  the  things  roseate 
flying  from  the  balcony  thicken  into  a  storm,  and,  striking 
the  men,  drop  into  the  chariot-beds,  which  are  threatened 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  359 

with  filling  to  the  tops.  Even  the  horses  have  a  share  in 
the  ovation ;  nor  may  it  be  said  they  are  less  conscious 
than  their  masters  of  the  honors  they  receive. 

Very  soon,  as  with  the  other  contestants,  it  is  made  ap 
parent  that  some  of  the  drivers  are  more  in  favor  than  oth 
ers  ;  and  then  the  discovery  follows  that  nearly  every  indi 
vidual  on  the  benches,  women  and  children  as  well  as  men, 
wears  a  color,  most  frequently  a  ribbon  upon  the  breast  or 
in  the  hair:  now  it  is  green,  now  yellow,  now  blue;  but, 
searching  the  great  body  carefully,  it  is  manifest  that  there 
is  a  preponderance  of  white,  and  scarlet  and  gold. 

In  a  modern  assemblage  called  together  as  this  one  is, 
particularly  where  there  are  sums  at  hazard  upon  the  race, 
a  preference  would  be  decided  by  the  qualities  or  perform 
ance  of  the  horses  ;  here,  however,  nationality  was  the  rule. 
If  the  Byzantine  and  Sidonian  found  small  support,  it  was 
because  their  cities  were  scarcely  represented  on  the  bench 
es.  On  their  side,  the  Greeks,  though  very  numerous,  were 
divided  between  the  Corinthian  and  the  Athenian,  leaving 
but  a  scant  showing  of  green  and  yellow.  Messala's  scarlet 
and  gold  would  have  been  but  little  better  had  not  the  cit 
izens  of  Antioch,  proverbially  a  race  of  courtiers,  joined  the 
Romans  by  adopting  the  color  of  their  favorite.  There 
were  left  then  the  country  people,  or  Syrians,  the  Jews,  and 
the  Arabs  ;  and  they,  from  faith  in  the  blood  of  the  sheik's 
four,  blent  largely  with  hate  of  the  Romans,  whom  they  de 
sired,  above  all  things,  to  see  beaten  and  humbled,  mounted 
the  white,  making  the  most  noisy,  and  probably  the  most 
numerous,  faction  of  all. 

As  the  charioteers  move  on  in  the  circuit,  the  excitement 
increases  ;  at  the  second  goal,  where,  especially  in  the  gal 
leries,  the  white  is  the  ruling  color,  the  people  exhaust  their 
flowers  and  rive  the  air  with  screams. 

"  Messala  !  Messala  !" 

«  Ecn-IIur !  Ben-Hur !" 

Such  are  the  cries. 

Upon  the  passage  of  the  procession,  the  factionists  take 
their  seats  and  resume  conversation. 

"  Ah,  by  Bacchus !  was  he  not  handsome  ?"  exclaims  a 
woman,  whose  Romanism  is  betrayed  by  the  colors  flying 
in  her  hair. 


300  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  And  how  splendid  his  chariot !"  replies  a  neighbor,  of 
the  same  proclivities.  "  It  is  all  ivory  and  gold.  Jupiter 
grant  he  wins !" 

The  notes  on  the  bench  behind  them  were  entirely  dif 
ferent. 

"  A  hundred  shekels  on  the  Jew  !" 

The  voice  is  high  and  shrill. 

"  Nay,  be  thou  not  rash,"  whispers  a  moderating  friend 
to  the  speaker.  "  The  children  of  Jacob  are  not  much 
given  to  Gentile  sports,  which  are  too  often  accursed  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord." 

"  True,  but  saw  you  ever  one  more  cool  and  assured  ? 
And  what  an  arm  he  has  !" 

"And  what  horses  !"  says  a  third. 

"  And  for  that,"  a  fourth  one  adds,  "  they  say  he  has  all 
the  tricks  of  the  Romans." 

A  woman  completes  the  eulogium  : 

"  Yes,  and  he  is  even  handsomer  than  the  Roman." 

Thus  encouraged,  the  enthusiast  shrieks  again,  "  A  hun 
dred  shekels  on  the  Jew  !" 

"  Thou  fool !"  answers  an  Antiochian,  from  a  bench  well 
forward  on  the  balcony.  "  Knowest  thou  not  there  are 
fifty  talents  laid  against  him,  six  to  one,  on  Messala?  Put 
up  thy  shekels,  lest  Abraham  rise  and  smite  thee." 

"  Ha,  ha  !  thou  ass  of  Antioch  !  Cease  thy  bray.  Know 
est  thou  not  it  was  Messala  betting  on  himself  ?" 

Such  the  reply. 

And  so  ran  the  controversy,  not  always  good-natured. 

When  at  length  the  march  was  ended  and  the  Porta 
Pompae  received  back  the  procession,  Ben-Hur  knew  he 
had  his  prayer. 

The  eyes  of  the  East  were  upon  his  contest  with  Messala. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ABOUT  three  o'clock,  speaking  in  modern  style,  the  pro 
gramme  was  concluded  except  the  chariot-race.  The  edi 
tor,  wisely  considerate  of  the  comfort  of  the  people,  chose 
that  time  for  a  recess.  At  once  the  vomitoria  were  thrown 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  361 

open,  and  all  who  could  hastened  to  the  portico  outside 
where  the  restaurateurs  had  their  quarters.  Those  who  re 
mained  yawned,  talked,  gossiped,  consulted  their  tablets, 
and,  all  distinctions  else  forgotten,  merged  into  but  two 
classes — the  winners,  who  were  happy,  and  the  losers,  who 
were  gram  and  captious. 

Now,  however,  a  third  class  of  spectators,  composed  of 
citizens  who  desired  only  to  witness  the  chariot-race,  availed 
themselves  of  the  recess  to  come  in  and  take  their  re 
served  seats  ;  by  so  doing  they  thought  to  attract  the  least 
attention  and  give  the  least  offence.  Among  these  were 
Simonides  and  his  party,  whose  places  were  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  main  entrance  on  the  north  side,  opposite  the  consul. 

As  the  four  stout  servants  carried  the  merchant  in  his 
chair  up  the  aisle,  curiosity  was  much  excited.  Presently 
some  one  called  his  name.  Those  about  caught  it  and 
passed  it  on  along  the  benches  to  the  west ;  and  there  was 
hurried  climbing  on  seats  to  get  sight  of  the  man  about 
whom  common  report  had  coined  and  put  in  circulation  a 
romance  so  mixed  of  good  fortune  and  bad  that  the  like 
had  never  been  known  or  heard  of  before. 

liderim  was  also  recognized  and  warmly  greeted  ;  but  no 
body  knew  Balthasar  or  the  two  women  who  followed  him 
closely  veiled. 

The  people  made  way  for  the  party  respectfully,  and  the 
ushers  seated  them  in  easy  speaking  distance  of  each  other 
down  by  the  balustrade  overlooking  the  arena.  In  provi 
dence  of  comfort,  they  sat  upon  cushions  and  had  stools 
for  foot-rests. 

The  women  were  Iras  and  Esther. 

Upon  being  seated,  the  latter  cast  a  frightened  look  over 
the  Circus,  and  drew  the  veil  closer  about  her  face  ;  while 
the  Egyptian,  letting  her  veil  fall  upon  her  shoulders,  gave 
herself  to  view,  and  gazed  at  the  scene  with  the  seeming 
unconsciousness  of  being  stared  at,  which,  in  a  woman,  is 
usually  the  result  of  long  social  habitude. 

The  new-comers  generally  were  yet  making  their  first  ex 
amination  of  the  great  spectacle,  beginning  with  the  consul 
and  his  attendants,  when  some  workmen  ran  in  and  com 
menced  to  stretch  a  chalked  rope  across  the  arena  from 


362  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

balcony  to  balcony  in  front  of  the  pillars  of  the  first 
goal. 

About  the  same  time,  also,  six  men  came  in  through  the 
Porta  Pompae  and  took  post,  one  in  front  of  each  occupied 
stall ;  whereat  there  was  a  prolonged  hum  of  voices  in 
every  quarter. 

"  See,  see  !  The  green  goes  to  number  four  on  the 
right ;  the  Athenian  is  there." 

"  And  Messala — yes,  he  is  in  number  two." 

"  The  Corinthian—" 

"  Watch,  the  white  !  See,  he  crosses  over,  he  stops  ; 
number  one  it  is — number  one  on  the  left." 

"  No,  the  black  stops  there,  and  the  white  at  number 
two." 

"  So  it  is." 

These  gate-keepers,  it  should  be  understood,  were  dressed 
in  tunics  colored  like  those  of  the  competing  charioteers ; 
so,  when  they  took  their  stations,  everybody  knew  the  par' 
ticular  stall  in  which  his  favorite  was  that  moment  waiting. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  Messala  ?"  the  Egyptian  asked  Esther. 

The  Jewess  shuddered  as  she  answered  no.  If  not  her 
father's  enemy,  the  Roman  was  Ben-IIur's. 

"  He  is  beautiful  as  Apollo." 

As  Iras  spoke,  her  large  eyes  brightened  and  she  shook 
her  jewelled  fan.  Esther  looked  at  her  with  the  thought, 
"  Is  he,  then,  so  much  handsomer  than  Ben-IIur  ?"  Next 
moment  she  heard  Ilderim  say  to  her  father,  "  Yes,  his 
stall  is  number  two  on  the  left  of  the  Porta  Pompse  ;"  and, 
thinking  it  was  of  Ben-Hur  he  spoke,  her  eyes  turned  that 
way.  Taking  but  the  briefest  glance  at  the  wattled  face  of 
the  gate,  she  drew  the  veil  close  and  muttered  a  little  prayer. 

Presently  Sanballat  came  to  the  party. 

"  I  am  just  from  the  stalls,  O  sheik,"  he  said,  bowing 
gravely  to  Ilderim,  who  began  combing  his  beard,  while  his 
eyes  glittered  with  eager  inquiry.  "  The  horses  are  in 
perfect  condition." 

Ilderim  replied  simply,  "  If  they  are  beaten,  I  pray  it  be 
by  some  other  than  Messala." 

Turning  then  to  Simonides,  Sanballat  drew  out  a  tablet, 
saying,  "  I  bring  you  also  something  of  interest.  I  re- 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  363 

ported,  you  will  remember,  the  wager  concluded  Avith  Mes- 
sala  last  night,  and  stated  that  I  left  another  which,  if  taken, 
was  to  be  delivered  to  me  in  writing  to-day  before  the  race 
began.  Here  it  is." 

Simonides  took  the  tablet  and  read  the  memorandum 
carefully. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  their  emissary  came  to  ask  me  if  you 
had  so  much  money  with  me.  Keep  the  tablet  close.  If 
you  lose,  you  know  where  to  come  ;  if  you  win  " — his  face 
knit  hard — "  if  you  win — ah,  friend,  see  to  it !  See  the 
signers  escape  not ;  hold  them  to  the  last  shekel.  That  is 
what  they  would  with  us." 

"  Trust  me,"  replied  the  purveyor. 

"  Will  you  not  sit  with  us  ?"  asked  Simonides. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  the  other  returned ;  "  but  if  I 
leave  the  consul,  young  Rome  yonder  will  boil  over. 
Peace  to  you ;  peace  to  all." 

At  length  the  recess  came  to  an  end. 

The  trumpeters  blew  a  call  at  which  the  absentees  rushed 
back  to  their  places.  At  the  same  time,  some  attendants 
appeared  in  the  arena,  and,  climbing  upon  the  division  wall, 
went  to  an  entablature  near  the  second  goal  at  the  west 
end,  and  placed  upon  it  seven  wooden  balls  ;  then  returning 
to  the  first  goal,  upon  an  entablature  there  they  set  up 
seven  other  pieces  of  wood  hewn  to  represent  dolphins. 

"  What  shall  they  do  with  the  balls  and  fishes,  O  sheik?" 
asked  Balthasar. 

"  Hast  thou  never  attended  a  race  ?" 

"  Never  before  ;  and  hardly  know  I  why  I  am  here." 

"  Well,  they  are  to  keep  the  count.  At  the  end  of  each 
round  run  thou  shalt  see  one  ball  and  one  fish  taken  down." 

The  preparations  were  now  complete,  and  presently  a 
trumpeter  in  gaudy  uniform  arose  by  the  editor,  ready  to 
blow  the  signal  of  commencement  promptly  at  his  order. 
Straightway  the  stir  of  the  people  and  the  hum  of  their 
conversation  died  away.  Every  face  near  by,  and  every 
face  in  the  lessening  perspective,  turned  to  the  east,  as  all 
eyes  settled  upon  the  gates  of  the  six  stalls  which  shut  in 
the  competitors. 

The  unusual  flush  upon  his  face  gave  proof  that  even 


364  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

Simonides  had  caught  the  universal  excitement.  Ilderim 
pulled  his  beard  fast  and  furious. 

"  Look  now  for  the  Roman,"  said  the  fair  Egyptian  to 
Esther,  who  did  not  hear  her,  for,  with  close-drawn  veil 
and  beating  heart,  she  sat  watching  for  Ben-IIur. 

The  structure  containing  the  stalls,  it  should  be  observed, 
was  in  form  of  the  segment  of  a  circle,  retired  on  the  right 
so  that  its  central  point  was  projected  forward,  and  mid 
way  the  course,  on  the  starting  side  of  the  first  goal.  Ev 
ery  stall,  consequently,  was  equally  distant  from  the  start 
ing-line  or  chalked  rope  above  mentioned. 

The  trumpet  sounded  short  and  sharp  ;  whereupon  the 
starters,  one  for  each  chariot,  leaped  down  from  behind  the 
pillars  of  the  goal,  ready  to  give  assistance  if  any  of  the 
fours  proved  unmanageable. 

Again  the  trumpet  blew,  and  simultaneously  the  gate 
keepers  threw  the  stalls  open. 

First  appeared  the  mounted  attendants  of  the  charioteers, 
five  in  all,  Ben-Hur  having  rejected  the  service.  The 
chalked  line  was  lowered  to  let  them  pass,  then  raised 
again.  They  were  beautifully  mounted,  yet  scarcely  ob 
served  as  they  rode  forward ;  for  all  the  time  the  tramp 
ling  of  eager  horses,  and  the  voices  of  drivers  scarcely  less 
eager,  were  heard  behind  in  the  stalls,  so  that  one  might 
not  look  away  an  instant  from  the  gaping  doors. 

The  chalked  line  up  again,  the  gate-keepers  called  their 
men ;  instantly  the  ushers  on  the  balcony  waved  their 
hands,  and  shouted  with  all  their  strength,  "  Down !  down !" 

As  well  have  whistled  to  stay  a  storm. 

Forth  from  each  stall,  like  missiles  in  a  volley  from  so 
many  great  guns,  rushed  the  six  fours  ;  and  up  the  vast  as 
semblage  arose,  electrified  and  irrepressible,  and,  leaping 
upon  the  benches,  filled  the  Circus  and  the  air  above  it 
with  yells  and  screams.  This  was  the  time  for  which  they 
had  so  patiently  waited  ! — this  the  moment  of  supreme  in 
terest  treasured  up  in  talk  and  dreams  since  the  proclama 
tion  of  the  games !" 

"  He  is  come — there — look  !"  cried  Iras,  pointing  to 
Messala. 

"  I  see  him,"  answered  Esther,  looking  at  Ben-Hur. 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  365 

The  veil  was  withdrawn.  For  an  instant  the  little  Jew 
ess  was  brave.  An  idea  of  the  joy  there  is  in  doing  an 
heroic  deed  under  the  eyes  of  a  multitude  came  to  her,  and 
she  understood  ever  after  how,  at  such  times,  the  souls  of 
men,  in  the  frenzy  of  performance,  laugh  at  death  or  for 
get  it  utterly. 

The  competitors  were  now  under  view  from  nearly  ev 
ery  part  of  the  Circus,  yet  the  race  was  not  begun  ;  they 
had  first  to  make  the  chalked  line  successfully. 

The  line  was  stretched  for  the  purpose  of  equalizing  the 
start.  If  it  were  dashed  upon,  discomfiture  of  man  and 
horses  might  be  apprehended ;  on  the  other  hand,  to  ap 
proach  it  timidly  was  to  incur  the  hazard  of  being  thrown 
behind  in  the  beginning  of  the  race  ;  and  that  was  certain 
forfeit  of  the  great  advantage  always  striven  for — the 
position  next  the  division  wall  on  the  inner  line  of  the 
course. 

This  trial,  its  perils  and  consequences,  the  spectators 
knew  thoroughly ;  and  if  the  opinion  of  old  Nestor,  ut 
tered  what  time  he  handed  the  reins  to  his  son,  were 
true — 

"  It  is  not  strength,  but  art,  obtained  the  prize, 
And  to  be  swift  is  less  than  to  be  wise  " — 

all  on  the  benches  might  well  look  for  warning  of  the  win 
ner  to  be  now  given,  justifying  the  interest  with  which  they 
breathlessly  watched  for  the  result. 

The  arena  swam  in  a  dazzle  of  light;  yet  each  driver 
looked  first  thing  for  the  rope,  then  for  the  coveted  inner 
line.  So,  all  six  aiming  at  the  same  point  and  speeding 
furiously,  a  collision  seemed  inevitable  ;  nor  that  merely. 
What  if  the  editor,  at  the  last  moment,  dissatisfied  with 
the  start,  should  withhold  the  signal  to  drop  the  rope  ?  Or 
if  he  should  not  give  it  in  time  ? 

The  crossing  was  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in 
width.  Quick  the  eye,  steady  the  hand,  unerring  the  judg 
ment  required.  If  now  one  look  away  !  or  his  mind  wan 
der  !  or  a  rein  slip  !  And  what  attraction  in  the  ensemble 
of  the  thousands  over  the  spreading  balcony  !  Calculating 
upon  the  natural  impulse  to  give  one  glance — just  one — in 


366  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

sooth  of  curiosity  or  vanity,  malice  might  be  there  with  an 
artifice  ;  while  friendship  and  love,  did  they  serve  the  same 
result,  might  be  as  deadly  as  malice. 

The  divine  last  touch  in  perfecting  the  beautiful  is  ani 
mation.  Can  we  accept  the  saying,  then  these  latter  days, 
so  tame  in  pastime  and  dull  in  sports,  have  scarcely  any 
thing  to  compare  to  the  spectacle  offered  by  the  six  con 
testants.  Let  the  reader  try  to  fancy  it ;  let  him  first  look 
down  upon  the  arena,  and  see  it  glistening  in  its  frame  of 
dull-gray  granite  walls ;  let  him  then,  in  this  perfect  field, 
see  the  chariots,  light  of  wheel,  very  graceful,  and  ornate 
as  paint  and  burnishing  can  make  them — Messala's  rich 
with  ivory  and  gold ;  let  him  see  the  drivers,  erect  and 
statuesque,  undisturbed  by  the  motion  of  the  cars,  their 
limbs  naked,  and  fresh  and  ruddy  with  the  healthful  polish 
of  the  baths — in  their  right  hands  goads,  suggestive  of  tor 
ture  dreadful  to  the  thought — in  their  left  hands,  held  in 
careful  separation,  and  high,  that  they  may  not  interfere 
with  view  of  the  steeds,  the  reins  passing  taut  from  the 
fore  ends  of  the  carriage-poles ;  let  him  see  the  fours, 
chosen  for  beauty  as  well  as  speed ;  let  him  see  them  in 
magnificent  action,  their  masters  not  more  conscious  of  the 
situation  and  all  that  is  asked  and  hoped  from  them — 
their  heads  tossing,  nostrils  in  play,  now  distent,  now  con 
tracted — limbs  too  dainty  for  the  sand  which  they  touch 
but  to  spurn — limbs  slender,  yet  with  impact  crushing  as 
hammers — every  muscle  of  the  rounded  bodies  instinct 
with  glorious  life,  swelling,  diminishing,  justifying  the 
world  in  taking  from  them  its  ultimate  measure  of  force ; 
finally,  along  with  chariots,  drivers,  horses,  let  the  reader 
see  the  accompanying  shadows  fly  ;  and,  with  such  dis 
tinctness  as  the  picture  comes,  he  may  share  the  satisfac 
tion  and  deeper  pleasure  of  those  to  whom  it  was  a  thrill 
ing  fact,  not  a  feeble  fancy.  Every  age  has  its  plenty  of 
sorrows  ;  Heaven  help  where  there  are  no  pleasures  ! 

The  competitors  having  started  each  on  the  shortest  line 
for  the  position  next  the  wall,  yielding  would  be  like  giv 
ing  up  the  race  ;  and  who  dared  yield  ?  It  is  not  in  com 
mon  nature  to  change  a  purpose  in  mid-career ;  and  the 
cries  of  encouragement  from  the  balcony  were  indistin- 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST.  367 

guishable  and  indescribable :  a  roar  which  had  the  same 
effect  upon  all  the  drivers. 

The  fours  neared  the  rope  together.  Then  the  trum 
peter  by  the  editor's  side  blew  a  signal  vigorously.  Twenty 
feet  away  it  was  not  heard.  Seeing  the  action,  however, 
the  judges  dropped  the  rope,  and  not  an  instant  too  soon, 
for  the  hoof  of  one  of  Messala's  horses  struck  it  as  it  fell. 
Nothing  daunted,  the  Roman  shook  out  his  long  lash, 
loosed  the  reins,  leaned  forward,  and,  with  a  triumphant 
shout,  took  the  wall. 

"  Jove  with  us !  Jove  Avith  us !"  yelled  all  the  Roman 
faction,  in  a  frenzy  of  delight. 

As  Messala  turned  in,  the  bronze  lion's  head  at  the  end 
of  his  axle  caught  the  fore-leg  of  the  Athenian's  right-hand 
trace-mate,  flinging  the  brute  over  against  its  yoke-fellow. 
Both  staggered,  struggled,  and  lost  their  headway.  The 
ushers  had  their  will  at  least  in  part.  The  thousands  held 
their  breath  with  horror ;  only  up  where  the  consul  sat 
was  there  shouting. 

"  Jove  with  us  !"  screamed  Drusus,  frantically. 

"  He  wins  !  Jove  with  us  !"  answered  his  associates,  see 
ing  Messala  speed  on. 

Tablet  in  hand,  Sanballat  turned  to  them ;  a  crash  from 
the  course  below  stopped  his  speech,  and  he  could  not  but 
look  that  way. 

Messala  having  passed,  the  Corinthian  was  the  only  con 
testant  on  the  Athenian's  right,  and  to  that  side  the  latter 
tried  to  turn  his  broken  four  ;  and  then,  as  ill-fortune  would 
have  it,  the  wheel  of  the  Byzantine,  who  was  next  on  the 
left,  struck  the  tail-piece  of  his  chariot,  knocking  his  feet 
from  under  him.  There  was  a  crash,  a  scream  of  rage  and 
fear,  and  the  unfortunate  Cleanthes  fell  under  the  hoofs  of 
his  own  steeds :  a  terrible  sight,  against  which  Esther  cov 
ered  her  eyes. 

On  swept  the  Corinthian,  on  the  Byzantine,  on  the  Sido- 
nian. 

Sanballat  looked  for  Ben-IIur,  and  turned  again  to  Dru 
sus  and  his  coterie. 

"  A  hundred  sestertii  on  the  Jew !"  he  cried. 

"  Taken !"  answered  Drusus. 


368  BEN-HUB:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  Anutiier  hundred  on  the  Jew  !"  shouted  Sanballat. 

Nobody  appeared  to  hear  him.  He  called  again ;  the 
situation  below  was  too  absorbing,  and  they  were  too  busy 
shouting,  "  Messala  !  Messala  !  Jove  with  us !" 

Wlie'u  the  Jewess  ventured  to  look  again,  a  party  of 
workmen  were  removing  the  horses  and  broken  car ;  an 
other  party  were  taking  off  the  man  himself ;  and  every 
bench  upon  which  there  was  a  Greek  was  vocal  with  exe 
crations  and  prayers  for  vengeance.  Suddenly  she  dropped 
her  hands ;  Ben-Hur,  unhurt,  was  to  the  front,  coursing 
freely  forward  along  with  the  Roman  !  Behind  them,  in 
a  group,  followed  the  Sidonian,  the  Corinthian,  and  the 
Byzantine. 

The  race  was  on  ;  the  souls  of  the  racers  were  in  it ;  over 
them  bent  the  myriads. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WHEN  the  dash  for  position  began,  Ben-Hur,  as  we  have 
seen,  was  on  the  extreme  left  of  the  six.  For  a  moment, 
like  the  others,  he  was  half  blinded  by  the  light  in  the 
arena ;  yet  he  managed  to  catch  sight  of  his  antagonists 
and  divine  their  purpose.  At  Messala,  who  was  more  than 
an  antagonist  to  him,  he  gave  one  searching  look.  The 
air  of  passionless  hauteur  characteristic  of  the  fine  patrician 
face  was  there  as  of  old,  and  so  was  the  Italian  beauty, 
which  the  helmet  rather  increased ;  but  more — it  may  have 
been  a  jealous  fancy,  or  the  effect  of  the  brassy  shadow  in 
which  the  features  were  at  the  moment  cast,  still  the  Is 
raelite  thought  he  saw  the  soul  of  the  man  as  through  a 
glass,  darkly:  cruel,  cunning,  desperate  ;  not  so  excited  as 
determined — a  soul  in  a  tension  of  watchfulness  and  fierce 
resolve. 

In  a  time  not  longer  vhan  was  required  to  turn  to  his 
four  again,  Ben-Hur  felt  his  own  resolution  harden  to  a 
like  temper.  A.t  whatever  cost,  at  all  hazards,  he  would 
humble  this  entmy  !  Prize,  friends,  wagers,  honor — every 
thing  that  can  bb  thought  of  as  a  possible  interest  in  the 
race  was  lost  in  the  one  deliberate  purpose.  Regard  for 


BEN-IIUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  3G9 

life  even  should  not  hold  him  back.  Yet  there  was  no 
passion,  on  his  part ;  no  blinding  rush  of  heated  blood 
from  heart  to  brain,  and  back  again ;  no  impulse  to  fling 
himself  upon  Fortune  :  he  did  not  believe  in  Fortune  ;  far 
otherwise.  He  had  his  plan,  and,  confiding  in  himself,  he 
settled  to  the  task  never  more  observant,  never  more  capa 
ble.  The  air  about  him  seemed  aglow  with  a  renewed  and 
perfect  transparency. 

When  not  half-way  across  the  arena,  he  saw  that  Messala's 
rush  would,  if  there  was  no  collision,  and  the  rope  fell,  give 
him  the  wall ;  that  the  rope  would  fall,  he  ceased  as  soon 
to  doubt ;  and,  further,  it  came  to  him,  a  sudden  flash-like 
insight,  that  Messala  knew  it  was  to  be  let  drop  at  the  last 
moment  (prearrangement  with  the  editor  could  safely  reach 
that  point  in  the  contest) ;  and  it  suggested,  what  more 
Roman-like  than  for  the  official  to  lend  himself  to  a  coun 
tryman  who,  besides  being  so  popular,  had  also  so  much  at 
stake  ?  There  could  be  no  other  accounting  for  the  confi 
dence  with  which  Messala  pushed  his  four  forward  the  in 
stant  his  competitors  were  prudentially  checking  their  fours 
in  front  of  the  obstruction — no  other  except  madness. 

It  is  one  thing  to  see  a  necessity  and  another  to  act 
upon  it.  Ben-IIur  yielded  the  wall  for  the  time. 

The  rope  fell,  and  all  the  four  but  his  sprang  into  the 
course  under  urgency  of  voice  and  lash,  lie  drew  head 
to  the  right,  and,  with  all  the  speed  of  his  Arabs,  darted 
across  the  trails  of  his  opponents,  the  angle  of  movement 
being  such  as  to  lose  the  least  time  and  gain  the  greatest 
possible  advance.  So,  while  the  spectators  were  shivering 
at  the  Athenian's  mishap,  and  the  Sidonian,  Byzantine,  and 
Corinthian  were  striving,  with  such  skill  as  they  possessed, 
to  avoid  involvement  in  the  ruin,  Ben-IIur  swept  around 
and  took  the  course  neck  and  neck  with  Messala,  though 
on  the  outside.  The  marvellous  skill  shown  in  making 
the  change  thus  from  the  extreme  left  across  to  the  right 
without  appreciable  loss  did  not  fail  the  sharp  eyes  upon 
the  benches :  the  Circus  seemed  to  rock  and  rock  again 
with  prolonged  applause.  Then  Esther  clasped  her  hands 
in  glad  surprise  ;  then  Sanballat,  smiling,  offered  his  hun 
dred  sestertii  a  second  time  without  a  taker ;  and  then  the 
24 


370  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  T1IE  CHRIST. 

Romans  began  to  doubt,  thinking  Messala  might  liave  found 
an  equal,  if  not  a  master,  and  that  in  an  Israelite  ! 

And  now,  racing  together  side  by  side,  a  narrow  interval 
between  them,  the  two  neared  the  second  goal. 

The  pedestal  of  the  three  pillars  there,  viewed  from  the 
west,  Avas  a  stone  wall  in  the  form  of  a  half -circle,  around 
which  the  course  and  opposite  balcony  were  bent  in  exact 
parallelism.  Making  this  turn  was  considered  in  all  re 
spects  the  most  telling  test  of  a  charioteer ;  it  was,  in  fact, 
the  very  feat  in  which  Orestes  failed.  As  an  involuntary 
admission  of  interest  on  the  part  of  the  spectators,  a  hush 
fell  over  all  the  Circus,  so  that  for  the  first  time  in  the  race 
the  rattle  and  clang  of  the  cars  plunging  after  the  tugging 
steeds  were  distinctly  heard.  Then,  it  would  seem,  Mes 
sala  observed  Ben-Hur,  and  recognized  him ;  and  at  once 
the  audacity  of  the  man  flamed  out  in  an  astonishing 
manner. 

"  Down  Eros,  up  Mars !"  he  shouted,  whirling  his  lash 
with  practised  hand — "  Down  Eros,  up  Mars  !"  he  repeated, 
and  caught  the  Avell-doing  Arabs  of  Ben-llur  a  cut  the  like 
of  which  they  had  never  known. 

The  blow  was  seen  in  every  quarter,  and  the  amazement 
was  universal.  The  silence  deepened ;  up  on  the  benches 
behind  the  consul  the  boldest  held  his  breath,  waiting  for 
the  outcome.  Only  a  moment  thus :  then,  involuntarily, 
down  from  the  balcony,  as  thunder  falls,  burst  the  indig 
nant  cry  of  the  people. 

The  four  sprang  forward  affrighted.  No  hand  had  ever 
been  laid  upon  them  except  in  love ;  they  had  been  nurt 
ured  ever  so  tenderly ;  and  as  they  grew,  their  confidence  in 
man  became  a  lesson  to  men  beautiful  to  see.  What  should 
such  dainty  natures  do  under  such  indignity  but  leap  as 
from  death  ? 

Forward  they  sprang  as  with  one  impulse,  and  forward 
leaped  the  car.  Past  question.  CTcry  experience  is  service 
able  to  us.  Where  got  Ben-IIur  the  large  hand  and  mighty 
grip  which  helped  him  now  so  well  ?  Where  but  from  the 
oar  with  which  so  long  he  fought  the  sea  ?  And  what  was 
this  spring  of  the  floor  under  his  feet  to  the  dizzy  eccentric 
lurch  with  which  in  the  old  time  the  trembling  ship  yielded 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  371 

to  the  beat  of  staggering  billows,  drunk  with  their  power  ? 
So  he  kept  his  place,  and  gave  the  four  free  rein,  and 
called  to  them  in  soothing  voice,  trying  merely  to  guide 
them  round  the  dangerous  turn  ;  and  before  the  fever  of  the 
people  began  to  abate,  he  had  back  the  mastery.  Nor  that 
only  :  on  approaching  the  first  goal,  he  was  again  side  by 
side  with  Messala,  bearing  with  him  the  sympathy  and  ad 
miration  of  every  one  not  a  Roman.  So  clearly  was  the 
feeling  shown,  so  vigorous  its  manifestation,  that  Messala, 
with  all  his  boldness,  felt  it  unsafe  to  trifle  further. 

As  the  cars  whirled  round  the  goal,  Esther  caught  sight 
of  Ben-Hur's  face — a  little  pale,  a  little  higher  raised,  oth 
erwise  calm,  even  placid. 

Immediately  a  man  climbed  on  the  entablature  at  the 
west  end  of  the  division  wall,  and  took  down  one  of  the 
conical  wooden  balls.  A  dolphin  on  the  east  entablature 
was  taken  down  at  the  same  time. 

In  like  manner,  the  second  ball  and  second  dolphin  dis 
appeared. 

And  then  the  third  ball  and  third  dolphin. 

Three  rounds  concluded :  still  Messala  held  the  inside 
position  ;  still  Ben-Hur  moved  with  him  side  by  side  ;  still 
the  other  competitors  followed  as  before.  The  contest 
began  to  have  the  appearance  of  one  of  the  double  races 
which  became  so  popular  in  Rome  during  the  later  Csesa- 
rean  period — Messala  and  Ben-IIur  in  the  first,  the  Corin 
thian,  Sidonian,  and  Byzantine  in  the  second.  Meantime 
the  ushers  succeeded  in  returning  the  multitude  to  their 
scats,  though  the  clamor  continued  to  run  the  rounds, 
keeping,  as  it  were,  even  pace  with  the  rivals  in  the  course 
below. 

In  the  fifth  round  the  Sidonian  succeeded  in  getting  a 
place  outside  Ben-Hur,  but  lost  it  directly. 

The  sixth  round  was  entered  upon  without  change  of 
relative  position. 

Gradually  the  speed  had  been  quickened — gradually  the 
blood  of  the  competitors  warmed  with  the  work.  Men  and 
beasts  seemed  to  know  alike  that  the  final  crisis  was-^  near, 
bringing  the  time  for  the  winner  to  assert  himself. 

The   interest  which  from  the   beginning  had  centred 


372  BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

chiefly  in  the  struggle  between  the  Roman  and  the  Jew, 
with  an  intense  and  general  sympathy  for  the  latter,  was 
fast  changing  to  anxiety  on  his  account.  On  all  the  benches 
the  spectators  bent  forward  motionless,  except  as  their 
faces  turned  following  the  contestants.  Ilderim  quitted 
combing  his  beard,  and  Esther  forgot  her  fears. 

"  A  hundred  sestertii  on  the  Jew !"  cried  Sanballat  to 
the  Romans  under  the  consul's  awning. 

There  was  no  reply. 

"  A  talent — or  five  talents,  or  ten  ;  choose  ye  !" 

lie  shook  his  tablets  at  them  defiantly. 

"  I  will  take  thy  sestertii,"  answered  a  Roman  youth, 
preparing  to  write. 

"  Do  not  so,"  interposed  a  friend. 

"  Why  ?" 

"  Messala  hath  reached  his  utmost  speed.  See  him  lean 
over  his  chariot-rim,  the  reins  loose  as  flying  ribbons.  Look 
then  at  the  Jew." 

The  first  one  looked. 

"  By  Hercules !"  he  replied,  his  countenance  falling. 
"  The  dog  throws  all  his  weight  on  the  bits.  I  sec,  I  see  ! 
If  the  gods  help  not  our  friend,  he  will  be  run  away  with 
by  the  Israelite.  No,  not  yet.  Look!  Jove  with  us,  Jove 
with  us !" 

The  cry,  swelled  by  every  Latin  tongue,  shook  the  vela 
ria  over  the  consul's  head. 

If  it  were  true  that  Messala  had  attained  his  utmost  speed, 
the  effort  was  with  effect ;  slowly  but  certainly  he  was 
beginning  to  forge  ahead.  His  horses  were  running  with 
their  heads  low  down ;  from  the  balcony  their  bodies  ap 
peared  actually  to  skim  the  earth ;  their  nostrils  showed 
blood-red  in  expansion  ;  their  eyes  seemed  straining  in  their 
sockets.  Certainly  the  good  steeds  were  doing  their  best ! 
How  long  could  they  keep  the  pace  ?  It  was  but  the  com 
mencement  of  the  sixth  round.  On  they  dashed.  As  they 
neared  the  second  goal,  Ben-llur  turned  in  behind  the  Ro 
man's  car. 

The  joy  of  the  Messala  faction  reached  its  bound :  they 
'screamed  and  howled,  and  tossed  their  -colors ;  and  San 
ballat  filled  his  tablets  with  wagers  of  their  tendering. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  373 

Mallucli,  in  the  lower  gallery  over  the  Gate  of  Triumph, 
found  it  hard  to  keep  his  cheer.  He  had  cherished  the 
vague  hint  dropped  to  him  by  Ben-Hur  of  something  to 
happen  in  the  turning  of  the  Avestern  pillars.  It  was  the 
fifth  round,  yet  the  something  had  not  come  ;  and  he  had 
said  to  himself,  the  sixth  will  bring  it ;  but,  lo  !  Ben-Hur 
was  hardly  holding  a  place  at  the  tail  of  his  enemy's  car. 

Over  in  the  east  end,  Simonides'  party  held  their  peace. 
The  merchant's  head  was  bent  low.  Ildcrim  tugged  at  his 
beard,  and  dropped  his  brows  till  there  was  nothing  of  his 
eyes  but  an  occasional  sparkle  of  light.  Esther  scarcely 
breathed.  Iras  alone  appeared  glad. 

Along  the  home-stretch — sixth  round — Messala  leading, 
next  him  Ben-Hur,  and  so  close  it  was  the  old  story  : 

"First  flew  Eumelus  on  Pheretian  steeds; 
With  those  of  Tros  bold  Diomed  succeeds; 
Close  on  Eumelus'  back  they  puff  the  wind, 
And  seem  just  mounting  on  his  car  behind ; 
Full  on  his  neck  he  feels  the  sultry  breeze, 
And,  hovering  o'er,  their  stretching  shadow  sees." 

Thus  to  the  first  goal,  and  round  it.  Messala,  fearful  of 
losing  his  place,  hugged  the  stony  wall  with  perilous  clasp ; 
a  foot  to  the  left,  and  he  had  been  dashed  to  pieces ;  yet, 
when  the  turn  was  finished,  no  man,  looking  at  the  wheel- 
tracks  of  the  two  cars,  could  have  said,  here  went  Messala, 
there  the  Jew.  They  left  but  one  trace  behind  them. 

As  they  whirled  by,  Esther  saw  Ben-Hur's  face  again, 
and  it  was  whiter  than  before. 

Simonides,  shrewder  than  Esther,  said  to  Ilderim,  the 
moment  the  rivals  turned  into  the  course,  "  I  am  no  judge, 
good  sheik,  if  Ben-IIur  be  not  about  to  execute  some  de 
sign.  His  face  hath  that  look." 

To  which  Ilderim  answered,  "  Saw  you  how  clean  they 
were  and  fresh  ?  By  the  splendor  of  God,  friend,  they 
have  not  been  running  !  But  now  watch  !" 

One  ball  and  one  dolphin  remained  on  the  entablatures ; 
and  all  the  people  drew  a  long  breath,  for  the  beginning  of 
the  end  was  at  hand. 

First,  the  Sidonian  gave  the  scourge  to  his  four,  and, 
smarting  with  fear  and  pain,  they  dashed  desperately  for- 


374  EEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ward,  promising  for  a  brief  time  to  go  to  the  front.  The 
effort  ended  in  promise.  Next,  the  Byzantine  and  Corin 
thian  each  made  the  trial  with  like  result,  after  which  they 
were  practically  out  of  the  race.  Thereupon,  with  a  readi 
ness  perfectly  explicable,  all  the  factions  except  the  Ro 
mans  joined  hope  in  Ben-Hur,  and  openly  indulged  their 
feeling. 

"  Ben-Hur !  Ben-Hur !"  they  shouted,  and  the  blent 
voices  of  the  many  rolled  overwhelmingly  against  the  con 
sular  stand. 

From  the  benches  above  him  as  he  passed,  the  favor  de 
scended  in  fierce  injunctions. 

"  Speed  thee,  Jew  !" 

"  Take  the  wall  now  !" 

"  On  !  loose  the  Arabs  !     Give  them  rein  and  scourge  !" 

"Let  him  not  have  the  turn  on  thee  again.  Now  or 
never !" 

Over  the  balustrade  they  stooped  low,  stretching  their 
hands  imploringly  to  him. 

Either  he  did  not  hear,  or  could  not  do  better,  for  half 
way  round  the  course  and  he  was  still  following ;  at  the 
second  goal  even  still  no  change  ! 

And  now,  to  make  the  turn,  Messala  began  to  draw  in 
his  left-hand  steeds,  an  act  which  necessarily  slackened 
their  speed.  His  spirit  was  high ;  more  than  one  altar 
was  richer  of  his  vows ;  the  Roman  genius  was  still  presi 
dent.  On  the  three  pillars  only  six  hundred  feet  away 
were  fame,  increase  of  fortune,  promotions,  and  a  triumph 
ineffably  sweetened  by  hate,  all  in  store  for  him !  That 
moment  Malluch,  in  the  gallery,  saw  Ben-Hur  lean  forward 
over  his  Arabs,  and  give  them  the  reins.  Out  flew  the 
many-folded  lash  in  his  hand ;  over  the  backs  of  the  startled 
steeds  it  writhed  and  hissed,  and  hissed  and  writhed  again 
and  again ;  and  though  it  fell  not,  there  were  both  sting 
and  menace  in  its  quick  report ;  and  as  the  man  passed 
thus  from  quiet  to  resistless  action,  his  face  suffused,  his 
eyes  gleaming,  along  the  reins  he  seemed  to  flash  his  will ; 
and  instantly  not  one,  but  the  four  as  one,  answered  with 
a  leap  that  landed  them  alongside  the  Roman's  car.  Mes 
sala,  on  the  perilous  edge  of  the  goal,  heard,  but  dared  not 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  3V5 

look  to  see  what  the  awakening  portended.  From  the 
people  he  received  no  sign.  Above  the  noises  of  the  race 
there  was  but  one  voice,  and  that  was  Ben-IIur's.  In  the 
old  Aramaic,  as  the  sheik  himself,  he  called  to  the  Arabs, 

"  On,  Atair !  On,  Rigel !  What,  Antares  !  dost  thou 
linger  now  ?  Good  horse — oho,  Aldebaran !  I  hear  them 
singing  in  the  tents.  I  hear  the  children  singing  and  the 
women — singing  of  the  stars,  of  Atair,  Antares,  Rigel,  Al 
debaran,  victory  !  —  and  the  song  will  never  end.  Well 
done  !  Home  to-morrow,  under  the  black  tent — home  ! 
On,  Antares  !  The  tribe  is  waiting  for  us,  and  the  master 
is  waiting !  'Tis  done  !  'tis  done  !  Ila,  ha !  We  have 
overthrown  the  proud.  The  hand  that  smote  us  is  in  the 
dust.  Ours  the  glory  !  Ha,  ha  ! — steady  !  The  work  is 
done — soho  !  Rest !" 

There  had  never  been  anything  of  the  kind  more  sim 
ple  ;  seldom  anything  so  instantaneous. 

At  the  moment  chosen  for  the  dash,  Messala  was  mov 
ing  in  a  circle  round  the  goal.  To  pass  him,  Ben-IIur  had 
to  cross  the  track,  and  good  strategy  required  the  move 
ment  to  be  in  a  forward  direction ;  that  is,  on  a  like  circle 
limited  to  the  least  possible  increase.  The  thousands  on 
the  benches  understood  it  all :  they  saw  the  signal  given 
— the  magnificent  response ;  the  four  close  outside  Mes- 
sala's  outer  wheel,  Ben-IIur's  inner  wheel  behind  the  other's 
car  —  all  this  they  saw.  Then  they  heard  a  crash  loud 
enough  to  send  a  thrill  through  the  Circus,  and,  quicker 
than  thought,  out  over  the  course  a  spray  of  shining  white 
and  yellow  flinders  flew.  Down  on  its  right  side  toppled 
the  bed  of  the  Roman's  chariot.  There  was  a  rebound  as 
of  the  axle  hitting  the  hard  earth ;  another  and  another ; 
then  the  car  went  to  pieces ;  and  Messala,  entangled  in  the 
reins,  pitched  forward  headlong. 

To  increase  the  horror  of  the  sight  by  making  death 
certain,  the  Sidonian,  who  had  the  wall  next  behind,  could 
not  stop  or  turn  out.  Into  the  wreck  full  speed  he  drove  ; 
then  over  the  Roman,  and  into  the  latter's  four,  all  mad 
with  fear.  Presently,  out  of  the  turmoil,  the  fighting  of 
horses,  the  resound  of  blows,  the  murky  cloud  of  dust  and 
sand,  he  crawled,  in  time  to  see  the  Corinthian  and  By- 


376  BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

zantine  go  on  down  tlic  course  after  Ben-IIur,  who  had 
not  been  an  instant  delayed. 

The  people  arose,  and  leaped  upon  the  benches,  and 
shouted  and  screamed.  Those  who  looked  that  way 
caught  glimpses  of  Messala,  now  under  the  trampling  of 
the  fours,  now  under  the  abandoned  cars.  He  was  still ; 
they  thought  him  dead  ;  but  far  the  greater  number  fol 
lowed  Ben-IIur  in  his  career.  They  had  not  seen  the  cun 
ning  touch  of  the  reins  by  which,  turning  a  little  to 
the  left,  he  caught  Messala's  wheel  with  the  iron-shod 
point  of  his  axle,  and  crushed  it ;  but  they  had  seen  the 
transformation  of  the  man,  and  themselves  felt  the  heat 
and  glow  of  his  spirit,  the  heroic  resolution,  the  madden 
ing  energy  of  action  with  which,  by  look,  word,  and  gest 
ure,  he  so  suddenly  inspired  his  Arabs.  And  such  run 
ning  !  It  was  rather  the  long  leaping  of  lions  in  harness  ; 
but  for  the  lumbering  chariot,  it  seemed  the  four  were  fly 
ing.  When  the  Byzantine  and  Corinthian  were  half-way 
down  the  course,  Bcn-Hur  turned  the  first  goal. 

And  the  race  was  WON  ! 

The  consul  arose  ;  the  people  shouted  themselves  hoarse  ; 
the  editor  came  down  from  his  seat,  and  crowned  the  vic 
tors. 

The  fortunate  man  among  the  boxers  was  a  low-browed, 
yellow-haired  Saxon,  of  such  brutalized  face  as  to  attract  a 
second  look  from  Ben-Hur,  who  recognized  a  teacher  with 
whom  he  himself  had  been  a  favorite  at  Rome.  From 
him  the  young  Jew  looked  up  and  beheld  Simonides  and  his 
party  on  the  balcony.  They  waved  their  hands  to  him. 
Esther  kept  her  seat ;  but  Iras  arose,  and  gave  him  a  smile 
and  a  wave  of  her  fan — favors  not  the  less  intoxicating  to 
him  because  we  know,  O  reader,  they  would  have  fallen  to 
Messala  had  he  been  the  victor. 

The  procession  was  then  formed,  and,  midst  the  shout 
ing  of  the  multitude  which  had  had  its  will,  passed  out  of 
the  Gate  of  Triumph. 

And  the  day  was  over. 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  377 


CHAPTER  XV. 

BKN-HUR  tarried  across  the  river  \vith  Ilderim  ;  for  at 
midnight,  as  previously  determined,  they  would  take  the 
road  which  the  caravan,  then  thirty  hours  out,  had  pur 
sued. 

Tve  sheik  was  happy;  his  offers  of  gifts  had  been  roy 
al  ;  but  Ben-IIur  had  refused  everything,  insisting  that  he 
was  satisfied  with  the  humiliation  of  his  enemy.  The 
generous  dispute  was  long  continued. 

"  Think,"  the  sheik  would  say,  "  what  thou  hast  done  for 
me.  In  every  black  tent  down  to  the  Akaba  and  to  the 
ocean,  and  across  to  the  Euphrates,  and  beyond  to  the  sea 
of  the  Scythians,  the  renown  of  my  Mira  and  her  children 
will  go;  and  they  who  sing  of  them  will  magnify  me,- and 
forget  that  I  am  in  the  wane  of  life ;  and  all  the  spears 
now  masterless  will  come  to  me,  and  my  sword-hands  mul 
tiply  past  counting.  Thou  dost  not  know  what  it  is  to 
have  sway  of  the  Desert  such  as  will  now  be  mine.  I  tell 
thee  it  will  bring  tribute  incalculable  from  commerce,  and 
immunity  from  kings.  Ay,  by  the  sword  of  Solomon  ! 
doth  my  messenger  seek  favor  for  me  of  Caesar,  that  will 
he  get.  Yet  nothing — nothing  ?" 

And  Ben-IIur  would  answer, 

"  Nay,  sheik,  have  I  not  thy  hand  and  heart  ?  Let  thy 
increase  of  power  and  influence  inure  to  the  King  who 
comes.  Who  shall  say  it  was  not  allowed  thee  for  him? 
In  the  work  I  am  going  to,  I  may  have  great  need.  Say 
ing  no  now  will  leave  me  to  ask  of  thee  with  better  grace 
hereafter." 

In  the  midst  of  a  controversy  of  the  kind,  two  messen 
gers  arrived — Malluch  and  one  unknown.  The  former  was 
admitted  first. 

The  good  fellow  did  not  attempt  to  hide  his  joy  over 
the  event  of  the  day. 

"  But,  coming  to  that  with  which  I  am  charged,"  he 


378  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

said,  "  the  master  Simonides  sends  me  to  say  that,  upon 
the  adjournment  of  the  games,  some  of  the  Roman  fac 
tion  made  haste  to  protest  against  payment  of  the  money 
prize." 

Ilderim  started  up,  crying,  in  his  shrillest  tones. 

"  By  the  splendor  of  God  !  the  East  shall  decide  wheth 
er  the  race  was  fairly  won." 

"  Nay,  good  sheik,"  said  Malluch,  "  the  editor  has  paid 
the  money." 

«  Tis  well." 

"  When  they  said  Ben-IIur  struck  Messala's  wheel,  the 
editor  laughed,  and  reminded  them  of  the  blow  the  Arabs 
had  at  the  turn  of  the  goal." 

"  And  what  of  the  Athenian  ?" 

"  He  is  dead." 

"  Dead  !"  cried  Ben-Hur. 

"  Dead  !"  echoed  Ilderim.  "  What  fortune  these  Ro 
man  monsters  have  !  Messala  escaped  ?" 

"  Escaped — yes,  O  sheik,  with  life ;  but  it  shall  be  a 
burden  to  him.  The  physicians  say  he  will  live,  but  never 
walk  again." 

Ben-Hur  looked  silently  up  to  heaven.  He  had  a  vision 
of  Messala,  chair-bound  like  Simonides,  and,  like  him,  go 
ing  abroad  on  the  shoulders  of  servants.  The  good  man 
had  abode  well ;  but  what  would  this  one  with  his  pride 
and  ambition  ? 

"  Simonides  bade  me  say,  further,"  Malluch  continued, 
"  Sanballat  is  having  trouble.  Drusus,  and  those  who 
signed  with  him,  referred  the  question  of  paying  the  five 
talents  they  lost  to  the  Consul  Maxentius,  and  he  has  re 
ferred  it  to  Caesar.  Messala  also  refused  his  losses,  and 
Sanballat,  in  imitation  of  Drusus,  went  to  the  consul,  where 
the  matter  is  still  in  advisement.  The  better  Romans  say 
the  protcstants  shall  not  be  excused ;  and  all  the  adverse 
factions  join  with  them.  The  city  rings  with  the  scandal." 

"  What  says  Simonides  ?"  asked  Ben-Hur. 

"  The  master  laughs,  and  is  well  pleased.  If  the  Roman 
pays,  he  is  ruined ;  if  he  refuses  to  pay,  he  is  dishonored. 
The  imperial  policy  will  decide  the  matter.  To  offend  the 
East  would  be  a  bad  beginning  with  the  Parthians ;  to  of- 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  379 

fend  Sheik  Ilderim  would  be  to  antagonize  the  Desert, 
over  which  lie  all  Maxentius's  lines  of  operation.  "Where 
fore  Simonides  bade  me  tell  you  to  have  no  disquiet ; 
Messala  will  pay." 

Ilderim  was  at  once  restored  to  his  good-humor. 

"  Let  us  be  off  now,"  he  said,  rubbing  his  hands.  "  The 
business  will  do  well  with  Simonides.  The  glory  is  ours. 
I  will  order  the  horses." 

"  Stay,"  said  Malluch.  "  I  left  a  messenger  outside. 
Will  you  see  him  ?" 

"  By  the  splendor  of  God  !  I  forgot  him." 

Malluch  retired,  and  was  succeeded  by  a  lad  of  gentle 
manners  and  delicate  appearance,  who  knelt  upon  one 
knee,  and  said,  winningly,  "  Iras,  the  daughter  of  Baltha- 
sar,  well  known  to  good  Sheik  Ilderim,  hath  intrusted  me 
with  a  message  to  the  sheik,  who,  she  saith,  will  do  her 
great  favor  so  he  receive  her  congratulations  on  account 
of  the  victory  of  his  four." 

"  The  daughter  of  my  friend  is  kind,"  said  Ilderim,  with 
sparkling  eyes.  "  Do  thou  give  her  this  jewel,  in  sign  of 
the  pleasure  I  have  from  her  message." 

He  took  a  ring  from  his  finger  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  will  as  thou  sayest,  O  sheik,"  the  lad  replied,  and 
continued,  "  The  daughter  of  the  Egyptian  charged  me 
further.  She  prays  the  good  Sheik  Ilderim  to  send  word 
to  the  youth  Ben-Hur  that  her  father  hath  taken  residence 
for  a  time  in  the  palace  of  Idernee,  where  she  will  receive 
the  youth  after  the  fourth  hour  to-morrow.  And  if,  with 
her  congratulations,  Sheik  Ilderim  will  accept  her  grati 
tude  for  this  other  favor  done,  she  will  be  ever  so  pleased." 

The  sheik  looked  at  Ben-IIur,  whose  face  was  suffused 
with  pleasure. 

"  What  will  you  ?"  he  asked. 

"  By  your  leave,  O  sheik,  I  will  see  the  fair  Egyptian." 

Ilderim  laughed,  and  said,  "  Shall  not  a  man  enjoy  his 
youth  ?" 

Then  Bcn-IInr  answered  the  messenger. 

"  Say  to  her  who  sent  you  that  I,  Bcn-Hur,  will  see  her 
at  the  palace  of  Idernee,  wherever  that  may  be,  to-niorrow 
at  noon." 


380  BEN-HUR:  A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

The  lad  arose,  and,  with  silent  salute,  departed. 

At  midnight  Ilderim  took  the  road,  having  arranged  to 
leave  a  horse  and  a  guide  for  Ben-llur,  who  was  to  follow 
him. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

GOING  next  day  to  fill  his  appointment  with  Iras,  Ben- 
Hur  turned  from  the  Omphalus,  which  Avas  in  the  heart  of 
the  city,  into  the  Colonnade  of  Herod,  and  came  shortly 
to  the  palace  of  Idernee. 

From  the  street  he  passed  first  into  a  vestibule,  on  the 
sides  of  which  were  stairways  under  cover,  leading  up  to  a 
portico.  Winged  lions  sat  by  the  stairs  ;  in  the  middle 
there  was  a  gigantic  ibis  spouting  water  over  the  floor ; 
the  lions,  ibis,  wall,  and  floor  were  reminders  of  the  Egyp 
tians  :  everything,  even  the  balustr.iding  of  the  stairs,  was 
of  massive  gray  stone. 

Above  the  vestibule,  and  covering  the  landing  of  the 
steps,  arose  the  portico,  a  pillared  grace,  so  light,  so  exqui 
sitely  proportioned,  it  was  at  that  period  hardly  possible  of 
conception  except  by  a  Greek.  Of  marble  snowy  white, 
its  effect  was  that  of  a  lily  dropped  carelessly  upon  a  great 
bare  rock. 

Ben-Hur  paused  in  the  shade  of  the  portico  to  admire 
its  tracery  and  finish,  and  the  purity  of  its  marble ;  then 
he  passed  on  into  the  palace.  Ample  folding-doors  stood 
open  to  receive  him.  The  passage  into  which  he  first  en 
tered  was  high,  but  somewhat  narrow ;  red  tiling  formed 
the  floor,  and  the  walls  were  tinted  to  correspond.  Yet  this 
plainness  was  a  warning  of  something  beautiful  to  come. 

He  moved  on  slowly,  all  his  faculties  in  repose.  Pres 
ently  he  would  be  in  the  presence  of  Iras ;  she  was  wait 
ing  for  him ;  Availing  with  song  and  story  and  badinage, 
sparkling,  fanciful,  capricious — with  smiles  which  glorified 
her  glance,  and  glances  which  lent  voluptuous  suggestion 
to  her  whisper.  She  had  sent  for  him  the  evening  of 
the  boat-ride  on  the  lake  in  the  Orchard  of  Palms  ;  she 
had  sent  for  him  now ;  and  he  was  going  to  her  in  the 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   ClIiUST.  381 

beautiful  palace  of  Idernce.  lie  was  happy  and  dreamful 
rather  than  thoughtless. 

The  passage  brought  him  to  a  closed  door,  in  front  of 
which  he  paused  ;  and,  as  he  did  so,  the  broad  leaves  be 
gan  to  open  of  themselves,  without  creak  or  sound  of  lock 
or  latch,  or  touch  of  foot  or  linger.  The  singularity  was 
lost  in  the  view  that  broke  upon  him. 

Standing  in  the  shade  of  the  dull  passage,  and  looking 
through  the  doorway,  he  beheld  the  atrium  of  a  Roman  house, 
roomy  and  rich  to  a  fabulous  degree  of  magnificence. 

How  large  the  chamber  was  cannot  be  stated,  because  of 
the  deceit  there  is  in  exact  proportions ;  its  depth  was 
vista-like,  something  never  to  be  said  of  an  equal  interior. 
When  he  stopped  to  make  survey,  and  looked  down  upon 
the  floor,  he  was  standing  upon  the  breast  of  a  Lcda,  rep 
resented  as  caressing  a  swan  ;  and,  looking  farther,  he  saw 
th'j  whole  floor  was  similarly  laid  in  mosaic  pictures  of  myth 
ological  subjects.  And  there  were  stools  and  chairs,  each 
a  separate  design,  and  a  work  of  art  exquisitely  composed, 
and  tables  much  carven,  and  here  and  there  couches  which 
were  invitations  of  themselves.  The  articles  of  furniture1, 
which  stood  out  from  the  walls,  were  duplicated  on  the  floor 
distinctly  as  if  they  floated  upon  unrippled  water;  even  the 
panelling  of  the  walls,  the  figures  upon  them  in  painting  and 
bass-relief,  and  the  fresco  of  the  ceiling  were  reflected  on 
the  floor.  The  ceiling  curved  up  towards  the  centre,  where 
there  was  an  opening  through  which  the  sunlight  poured 
without  hindrance,  and  the  sky,  ever  so  blue,  seemed  in 
hand-reach ;  the  impluvium  under  the  opening  was  guarded 
by  bronzed  rails ;  the  gilded  pillars  supporting  the  roof  at 
the  edges  of  the  opening  shone  like  flame  where  the  sun 
struck  them,  and  their  reflections  beneath  seemed  to  stretch 
to  infinite  depth.  And  there  were  candelabra  quaint  and 
curious,  and  statuary  and  vases ;  the  whole  making  an  in 
terior  that  would  have  befitted  well  the  house  on  the  Pal 
atine  Hill  which  Cicero  bought  of  Crassus,  or  that  other,  yet 
more  famous  for  extravagance,  the  Tusculan  villa  of  Scaurus. 

Still  in  his  dreamful  mood,  Ben-IIur  sauntered  about, 
charmed  by  all  he  beheld,  and  waiting.  He  did  not  mind 
a  little  delay ;  when  Iras  was  ready,  she  would  come  or 


382  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

send  a  servant.  In  every  well-regulated  Roman  house  the 
atrium  was  the  reception  chamber  for  visitors. 

Twice,  thrice,  he  made  the  round.  As  often  he  stood 
under  the  opening  in  the  roof,  and  pondered  the  sky  and 
its  azure  depth ;  then,  leaning  against  a  pillar,  he  studied 
the  distribution  of  light  and  shade  and  its  effects ;  here  a 
veil  diminishing  objects,  there  a  brilliance  exaggerating 
others  ;  yet  nobody  came.  Time,  or  rather  the  passage  of 
time,  began  at  length  to  impress  itself  upon  him,  and  he 
wondered  why  Iras  stayed  so  long.  Again  he  traced  out 
the  figures  upon  the  floor,  but  not  with  the  satisfaction  the 
first  inspection  gave  him.  He  paused  often  to  listen :  di 
rectly  impatience  blew  a  little  fevered  breath  upon  his  spirit ; 
next  time  it  blew  stronger  and  hotter ;  and  at  last  he  woke 
to  a  consciousness  of  the  silence  which  held  the  house  in 
thrall,  and  the  thought  of  it  made  him  uneasy  and  distrust 
ful.  Still  he  put  the  feeling  off  with  a  smile  and  a  promise. 
"  Oh,  she  is  giving  the  last  touch  to  her  eyelids,  or  she  is 
arranging  a  chaplet  for  me  ;  she  will  come  presently,  more 
beautiful  of  the  delay !"  He  sat  down  then  to  admire  a 
candelabrum — a  bronze  plinth  on  rollers,  filigree  on  the 
sides  and  edges ;  the  post  at  one  end,  and  on  the  end  op 
posite  it  an  altar  and  a  female  celebrant ;  the  lamp-rests 
swinging  by  delicate  chains  from  the  extremities  of  droop 
ing  palm-branches  ;  altogether  a  wonder  in  its  way.  But 
the  silence  would  obtrude  itself :  he  listened  even  as  he 
looked  at  the  pretty  object — he  listened,  but  there  was  not 
a  sound ;  the  palace  was  still  as  a  tomb. 

There  might  be  a  mistake.  No,  the  messenger  had  come 
from  the  Egyptian,  and  this  was  the  palace  of  Idernee. 
Then  he  remembered  how  mysteriously  the  door  had 
opened,  so  soundlessly,  so  of  itself.  He  would  see ! 

He  went  to  the  same  door.  Though  he  walked  ever  so 
lightly,  the  sound  of  his  stepping  was  loud  and  harsh,  and 
he  shrank  from  it.  He  was  getting  nervous.  The  cum 
brous  Roman  lock  resisted  his  first  effort  to  raise  it ;  and 
the  second — the  blood  chilled  in  his  cheeks — he  wrenched 
with  all  his  might :  in  vain — the  door  was  not  even  shaken. 
A  sense  of  danger  seized  him,  and  for  a  moment  he  stood 
irresolute. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  383 

Who  in  Antioch  had  the  motive  to  do  him  harm  ? 

Messala ! 

And  this  palace  of  Idernee  ?  He  had  seen  Egypt  in  the 
vestibule,  Athens  in  the  snowy  portico ;  but  here,  in  the 
atrium,  was  Rome  ;  everything  about  him  betrayed  Roman 
ownership.  True,  the  site  was  on  the  great  thoroughfare 
of  the  city,  a  very  public  place  in  which  to  do  him  vio 
lence  ;  but  for  that  reason  it  was  more  accordant  with  the 
audacious  genius  of  his  enemy.  The  atrium  underwent  a 
change,  with  all  its  elegance  and  beauty,  it  was  no  more 
than  a  trap.  Ajvprchensipn^always  paints  in  black. 

The  idea  irritated  Ben-Hur. 

There  were  many  doors  on  the  right  and  left  of  the 
atrium,  leading,  doubtless,  to  sleeping-chambers  ;  he  tried 
them,  but  they  were  all  firmly  fastened.  Knocking  might 
bring  response.  Ashamed  to  make  outcry,  he  betook  him 
self  to  a  couch,  and,  lying  down,  tried  to  reflect.* 

All  too  plainly  he  was  a  prisoner  ;  but  for  what  purpose? 
and  by  whom  ? 

If  the  work  were  Messala's  !  He  sat  up,  looked  about, 
and  smiled  defiantly.  There  were  weapons  in  every  table. 
But  birds  had  been  starved  in  golden  cages ;  not  so  would 
he — the  couches  would  serve  him  as  battering-rams ;  and 
he  was  strong,  and  there  was  such  increase  of  might  in 
rage  and  despair ! 

Messala  himself  could  not  come.  He  would  never  walk 
again ;  he  was  a  cripple  like  Simonides ;  still  he  could 
move  others.  And  where  were  there  not  others  to  be 
moved  by  him'?  Ben-Hur  arose,  and  tried  the  doors  again. 
Once  he  called  out ;  the  room  echoed  so  that  he  was  startled. 
With  such  calmness  as  he  could  assume,  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  wait  a  time  before  attempting  to  break  a  way  out. 

In  such  a  situation  the  mind  has  its  ebb  and  flow  of  dis 
quiet,  with  intervals  of  peace  between.  At  length — how 
long,  though,  he  could  not  have  said — he  came  to  the  con 
clusion  that  the  affair  was  an  accident  or  mistake.  The 
palace  certainly  belonged  to  somebody ;  it  must  have  care 
and  keeping :  and  the  keeper  would  come  ;  the  evening  or 
the  night  would  bring  him.  Patience  ! 

So  concluding,  he  waited. 


384  BEN-I1UR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

Half  an  hour  passed — a  much  longer  period  to  Ben-Kur — 
when  the  door  which  had  admitted  him  opened  and  closed 
noiselessly  as  before,  and  without  attracting  his  attention. 

The  moment  of  the  occurrence  he  was  sitting  at  the  far 
ther  end  of  the  room.  A  footstep  startled  him. 

"  At  last  she  has  come !"  he  thought,  with  a  throb  of 
relief  and  pleasure,  and  arose. 

The  step  was  heavy,  and  accompanied  with  the  gride  and 
clang  of  coarse  sandals.  The  gilded  pillars  were  between 
him  and  the  door  ;  he  advanced  quietly,  and  leaned  against 
one  of  them.  Presently  he  heard  voices — the  voices  of 
men — one  of  them  rough  and  guttural.  What  was  said  he 
could  not  understand,  as  the  language  was  not  of  the  East 
or  South  of  Europe. 

After  a  general  survey  of  the  room  the  strangers  crossed 
to  their  left,  and  were  brought  into  Ben-IIur's  view — two 
men,  one  very  stout,  both  tall,  and  both  in  short  tunics. 
They  had  not  the  air  of  masters  of  the  house  or  domestics. 
Everything  they  saw  appeared  wonderful  to  them  ;  every 
thing  they  stopped  to  examine  they  touched.  They  were 
vulgarians.  The  atrium  seemed  profaned  by  their  pres 
ence.  At  the  same  time,  their  leisurely  manner  and  the 
assurance  with  which  they  proceeded  pointed  to  some 
right  or  business  ;  if  business,  with  whom  ? 

\Yith  much  jargon  they  sauntered  this  way  and  that,  all 
the  time  gradually  approaching  the  pilkr  by  which  Ben- 
Hur  was  standing.  Off  a  little  way,  where  a  slanted  gleam 
of  the  sun  fell  with  a  glare  upon  the  mosaic  of  the  floor, 
there  was  a  statue  which  attracted  their  notice.  In  exam 
ining  it  they  stopped  in  the  light. 

The  mystery  surrounding  his  own  presence  in  the  pal 
ace  tended,  as  we  have  seen,  to  make  Ben-Hur  nervous ; 
so  now,  when  in  the  tall,  stout  stranger  he  recognized  the 
Northman  whom  he  had  known  in  Rome,  and  seen  crowned 
only  the  day  before  in  the  Circus  as  the  winning  pugilist ; 
when  he  saw  the  man's  face,  scarred  with  the  wounds  of 
many  battles,  and  imbruted  by  ferocious  passions ;  when 
he  surveyed  the  fellow's  naked  limbs,  very  marvels  of  ex 
ercise  and  training,  and  his  shoulders  of  Herculean  breadth, 
a  thought  of  personal  danger  started  a  chill  along  every 


BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  385 

vein.  A  sure  instinct  warned  him  that  the  opportunity 
for  murder  was  too  perfect  to  have  come  by  chance ;  and 
here  now  were  the  myrmidons,  and  their  business  was  with 
him.  He  turned  an  anxious  eye  upon  the  Northman's 
comrade — young,  black-eyed,  black-haired,  and  altogether 
Jewish  in  appearance ;  he  observed,  also,  that  both  the 
men  were  in  costume  exactly  such  as  professionals  of  theiiv 
class  were  in  the  habit  of  wearing  in  the  arena.  Putting 
the  several  circumstances  together,  Ben-IIur  could  not  be 
longer  in  doubt :  he  had  been  lured  into  the  palace  with 
design.  Out  of  reach  of  aid,  in  this  splendid  privacy,  he 
was  to  die ! 

At  a  loss  what  to  do,  he  gazed  from  man  to  man,  while 
there  was  enacted  within  him  that  miracle  of  mind  by  which 
life  is  passed  before  us  in  awful  detail,  to  be  looked  at  by 
ourselves  as  if  it  were  another's ;  and  from  the  evolvement, 
from  a  hidden  depth,  cast  up,  as  it  were,  by  a  hidden  hand, 
he  was  given  to  see  that  he  had  entered  upon  a  new  life, 
different  from  the  old  one  in  this  :  Avhereas,  in  that,  he  had 
been  the  victim  of  violences  done  to  him,  henceforth  he  was 
to  be  the  aggressor.  Only  yesterday  he  had  found  his 
first  victim !  To  the  purely  Christian  nature  the  presenta 
tion  would  have  brought  the  weakness  of  remorse.  Not 
so  with  Ben-IIur;  his  spirit  had  its  emotions  from  the 
teachings  of  the  first  lawgiver,  not  the  last  and  greatest 
one.  lie  had  dealt  punishment,  not  wrong,  to  Messala. 
By  permission  of  the  Lord,  he  had  triumphed ;  and  he 
derived  faith  from  the  circumstance — faith  the  source  of 
all  rational  strength,  especially  strength  in  peril. 

Nor  did  the  influence  stop  there.  The  new  life  was  made 
appear  to  him  a  mission  just  begun,  and  holy  as  the  King 
to  come  was  holy,  and  certain  as  the  coming  of  the  King 
was  certain — a  mission  in  which  force  was  lawful  if  only 
because  it  was  unavoidable.  Should  he,  on  the  very  thresh 
old  of  such  an  errand,  be  afraid  ? 

lie  undid  the  sash  around  his  waist,  and,  baring  his  head 
and  casting  off  his  white  Jewish  gown,  stood  forth  in  an 
undertunic  not  unlike  those  of  the  enemy,  and  was  ready, 
body  and  mind.  Folding  his  arms,  he  placed  his  back 
against  the  pillar,  and  calmly  waited. 
25 


386  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

The  examination  of  the  statue  was  brief.  Directly  the 
Northman  turned,  and  said  something  in  the  unknown 
tongue  ;  then  both  looked  at  Ben-IIur.  A  few  more  words, 
and  they  advanced  towards  him. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  he  asked  in  Latin. 

The  Northman  fetched  a  smile  which  did  not  relieve  his 
face  of  its  brutalism,  and  answered, 

"  Barbarians." 

"  This  is  the  palace  of  Idernce.  Whom  seek  you  ?  Stand 
and  answer." 

The  wofds  were  spoken  with  earnestness.  The  stran 
gers  stopped  ;  and  in  his  turn  the  Northman  asked,  "  Who 
are  you  ?" 

"  A  Roman." 

The  giant  laid  his  head  back  upon  his  shoulders. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  I  have  heard  how  a  god  once  came  from 
a  cow  licking  a  salted  stone  ;  but  not  even  a  god  can  make 
a  Roman  of  a  Jew." 

The  laugh  over,  he  spoke  to  his  companion  again,  and 
they  moved  nearer. 

"Hold!"  said  Ben-IIur,  quitting  the  pillar.  "One 
word." 

They  stopped  again. 

"  A  word !"  replied  the  Saxon,  folding  his  immense 
arms  across  his  breast,  and  relaxing  the  menace  begin 
ning  to  blacken  his  face.  "  A  word  !  Speak." 

"  You  are  Thord  the  Northman." 

The  giant  opened  his  blue  eyes. 

"  You  were  lanista  in  Rome." 

Thord  nodded. 

"  I  was  your  scholar." 

"  No,"  said  Thord,  shaking  his  head.  "  By  the  beard 
of  Irmin,  I  had  never  a  Jew  to  make  a  fighting-man  of." 

"  But  I  will  prove  my  saying." 

"  How  ?" 

"  You  came  here  to  kill  me." 

"  That  is  true." 

"  Then  let  this  man  fight  me  singly,  and  I  will  make  the 
proof  on  his  body." 

A  gleam  of  humor  shown  in  the  Northman's  face.     He 


BEN-HUE:  A  TALE  OF  TEE  CHRIST.  387 

spoke  to  his  companion,  who  made  answer ;  then  he  re 
plied  with  the  naivete  of  a  diverted  child, 

"  Wait  till  I  say  begin." 

By  repeated  touches  of  his  foot,  he  pushed  a  couch  out 
on  the  floor,  and  proceeded  leisurely  to  stretch  his  burly 
form  upon  it ;  when  perfectly  at  ease,  he  said,  simply,  "  Now 
begin." 

Without  ado,  Ben-IIur  walked  to  his  antagonist. 

"  Defend  thyself,"  he  said. 

The  man,  nothing  loath,  put  up  his  hands. 

As  the  two  thus  confronted  each  other  in  approved  posi 
tion,  there  was  no  discernible  inequality  between  them ;  on 
the  contrary,  they  were  as  like  as  brothers.  To  the  stran 
ger's  confident  smile,  Ben-IIur  opposed  an  earnestness 
which,  had  his  skill  been  known,  would  have  been  accepted 
fair  warning  of  danger.  Both  knew  the  combat  was  to  be 
mortal. 

Ben-Hur  feinted  with  his  right  hand.  The  stranger 
warded,  slightly  advancing  his  left  arm.  Ere  he  could  re 
turn  to  guard,  Ben-IIur  caught  him  by  the  wrist  in  a  grip 
which  years  at  the  oar  had  made  terrible  as  a  vise.  The 
surprise  was  complete,  and  no  time  given.  To  throw  him 
self  forward ;  to  push  the  arm  across  the  man's  throat  and 
over  his  right  shoulder,  and  turn  him  left  side  front ;  to 
strike  surely  with  the  ready  left  hand ;  to  strike  the  bare 
neck  under  the  ear — were  but  petty  divisions  of  the  same 
act.  No  need  of  a  second  blow.  The  myrmidon  fell  heavi 
ly,  and  without  a  cry,  and  lay  still. 

Ben-Hur  turned  to  Thord. 

"Ha!  What!  By  the  beard  of  Irmin !"  the  latter 
cried,  in  astonishment,  rising  to  a  sitting  posture.  Then 
he  laughed. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !     I  could  not  have  done  it  better  myself." 

He  viewed  Ben-IIur  coolly  from  head  to  foot,  and,  rising, 
faced  him  with  undisguised  admiration. 

"It  was  my  trick — the  trick  I  have  practised  for  ten 
vcars  in  the  schools  of  Rome.  You  are  not  a  Jew.  Who 
are  you  ?" 

"  You  knew  Arrius  the  duumvir." 

"  Quintus  Arrius?     Yes,  he  was  my  patron." 


388      BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

"  He  had  a  son." 

"  Yes,"  said  Thord,  his  battered  features  lighting  dully. 
"  I  knew  tlie  boy ;  lie  would  have  made  a  king  gladiator. 
Cscsar  offered  him  his  patronage.  I  taught  him  the  very 
trick  you  played  on  this  one  here — a  trick  impossible  ex 
cept  to  a  hand  and  arm  like  mine.  It  has  won  me  many 
a  crown." 

"  I  am  that  son  of  Arrius." 

Thord  drew  nearer,  and  viewed  him  carefully  ;  then  his 
eyes  brightened  with  genuine  pleasure,  and,  laughing,  he 
held  out  his  hand. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !     He  told  me  I  would  find  a  Jew  here — a 
Jew — a  dog  of  a  Jew — killing  whom  was  serving  the  gods." 
'  Who  told  you  so  ?"  asked  Ben-llur,  taking  the  hand. 
'  He — Mcssala — ha,  ha,  ha !" 
'  When,  Thord  ?" 
'  Last  night." 
'  I  thought  he  was  hurt." 

'  He  will  never  walk  again.  On  his  bed  he  told  me  be 
tween  groans." 

A  very  vivid  portrayal  of  hate  in  a  few  words ;  and  Ben- 
llur  saw  that  the  Roman,  if  he  lived,  would  still  be  capable 
and  dangerous,  and  follow  him  unrelentingly.  Revenge  re 
mained  to  sweeten  the  ruined  life ;  therefore  the  clinging 
to  fortune  lost  in  the  wager  \vith  Sanballat.  Bcn-Hur  ran 
the  ground  over,  with  a  distinct  foresight  of  the  many  ways 
in  which  it  would  be  possible  for  his  enemy  to  interfere 
with  him  in  the  work  he  had  undertaken  for  the  King  who 
was  coming.  AVhy  not  he  resort  to  the  Roman's  methods  ? 
The  man  hired  to  kill  him  could  be  hired  to  strike  back. 
It  was  in  his  power  to  offer  higher  wages.  The  tempta 
tion  was  strong ;  and,  half  yielding,  he  chanced  to  look 
down  at  his  late  antagonist  lying  still,  with  white  upturned 
face,  so  like  himself.  A  light  came  to  him,  and  he  asked, 
"  Thord,  what  was  Messala  to  give  you  for  killing  me  ?" 

"  A  thousand  sestertii." 

"  You  shall  have  them  yet ;  and  so  you  do  now  what  I 
tell  you,  I  will  add  three  thousand  more  to  the  sum." 

The  giant  reflected  aloud. 

"  I  won  five  thousand  yesterday  ;  from  the  Roman  one — 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  389 

six.  Give  me  four,  good  Arrius — four  more — and  I  will 
stand  firm  for  you,  though  old  Thor,  my  namesake,  strike 
me  with  his  hammer.  Make  it  four,  and  I  will  kill  the  ly 
ing  patrician,  if  you  say  so.  I  have  only  to  cover  his  mouth 
with  my  hand — thus." 

lie  illustrated  the  process  by  clapping  his  hand  over  his 
own  mouth. 

"  I  sec,"  said  Ben-IIur ;  "  ten  thousand  sestertii  is  a  fort 
une.  It  will  enable  you  to  return  to  Rome,  and  open  a 
wine-shop  near  the  Great  Circus,  and  live  as  becomes  the 
first  of  the  lanistce." 

The  very  scars  on  the  giant's  face  glowed  afresh  with 
the  pleasure  the  picture  gave  him. 

"  I  will  make  it  four  thousand,"  Ben-IIur  continued ; 
"  and  in  what  you  shall  do  for  the  money  there  will  be  no 
blood  on  your  hands,  Thord.  Hear  me  now.  Did  not 
your  friend  here  look  like  me  ?" 

"  I  would  have  said  he  was  an  apple  from  the  same  tree." 

"  Well,  if  I  put  on  his  tunic,  and  dress  him  in  these 
clothes  of  mine,  and  you  and  I  go  away  together,  leaving 
fiim  here,  can  you  not  get  your  sestertii  from  Messala  all 
the  same  ?  You  have  only  to  make  him  believe  it  me  that 
is,  dead." 

Thord  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  into  his  mouth. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Ten  thousand  sestertii  were  never  won  so 
easily.  And  a  wine-shop  by  the  Great  Circus ! — all  for  a 
lie  without  blood  in  it !  Ila,  ha,  ha  !  Give  me  thy  hand, 
O  son  of  Arrius.  Get  on  now,  and — ha,  ha,  ha  ! — if  ever 
you  come  to  Rome,  fail  not  to  ask  for  the  wine-shop  of 
Thord  the  Northman.  By  the  beard  of  Irmin,  I  will  give 
you  the  best,  though  I  borrow  it  from  Ca3sar!" 

They  shook  hands  again ;  after  which  the  exchange  of 
clothes  was  effected.  It  was  arranged  then  that  a  messen 
ger  should  go  at  night  to  Thord's  lodging-place  with  the 
four  thousand  sestertii.  When  they  were  done,  the  giant 
knocked  at  the  front  door  ;  it  opened  to  him  ;  and,  passing 
out  of  the  atrium,  he  led  Ben-IIur  into  a  room  adjoining, 
where  the  latter  completed  his  attire  from  the  coarse  gar 
ments  of  the  dead  pugilist.  They  separated  directly  in 
the  Omphalus. 


390  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  Fail  not,  0  son  of  Arrius,  fail  not  the  wine-shop  near  the 
Great  Circus !  Ha,  ha,  ha  ?  By  the  beard  of  Irmin,  there 
was  never  fortune  gained  so  cheap.  The  gods  keep  you  !" 

Upon  leaving  the  atrium,  Ben-IIur  gave  a  last  look  at  the 
myrmidon  as  he  lay  in  the  Jewish  vestments,  and  was  satis 
fied.  The  likeness  was  striking.  If  Thord  kept  faith,  the 

cheat  was  a  secret  to  endure  forever. 

****** 

At  night,  in  the  house  of  Simonides,  Ben-Hur  told  the 
good  man  all  that  had  taken  place  in  the  palace  of  Idernee  ; 
and  it  was  agreed  that,  after  a  few  days,  public  inquiry 
should  be  set  afloat  for  the  discovery  of  the  whereabouts 
of  the  son  of  Arrius.  Eventually  the  matter  was  to  be  car 
ried  boldly  to  Maxentius ;  then,  if  the  mystery  came  not 
out,  it  was  concluded  that  Messala  and  Gratus  would  be  at 
rest  and  happy,  and  Ben-Hur  free  to  betake  himself  to  Jeru 
salem,  to  make  search  for  his  lost  people. 

At  the  leave-taking,  Simonides  sat  in  his  chair  out  on 
the  terrace  overlooking  the  river,  and  gave  his  farewell  and 
the  peace  of  the  Lord  with  the  impressment  of  a  father. 
Esther  went  with  the  young  man  to  the  head  of  the  steps. 

"  If  I  find  my  mother,  Esther,  thou  shalt  go  to  her  at 
Jerusalem,  and  be  a  sister  to  Tirzah." 

And  with  the  words  he  kissed  her. 

Was  it  only  a  kiss  of  peace  ? 

lie  crossed  the  river  next  to  the  late  quarters  of  Ilderim, 
where  he  found  the  Arab  who  was  to  serve  him  as  guide. 
The  horses  were  brought  out. 

"  This  one  is  thine,"  said  the  Arab. 

Ben-Hur  looked,  and,  lo  !  it  was  Aldebaran,  the  swiftest 
and  brightest  of  the  sons  of  Mira,  and,  next  to  Sirius,  the 
beloved  of  the  sheik ;  and  he  knew  the  old  man's  heart 
came  to  him  along  with  the  gift. 

The  corpse  in  the  atrium  was  taken  up  and  buried  by 
night ;  and,  as  part  of  Messala's  plan,  a  courier  was  sent  off 
to  Gratus  to  make  him  at  rest  by  the  announcement  of  Ben- 
Hur's  death — this  time  past  question. 

Ere  long  a  wine-shop  was  opened  near  the  Circus  Maxi- 
mus,  with  inscription  over  the  door : 

THORD  THE  NORTHMAN. 


BOOK  SIXTH. 


"Is  that  a  Death?   and  are  there  two? 
Is  Death  that  woman's  mate  ? 

***** 

Her  skin  was  white  as  leprosy, 

The  Nightmare  Life-in-Death  was  she, 

Who  thicks  man's  blood  with  cold." 

COLERIDGE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OUR  story  moves  forward  now  thirty  days  from  the  night 
Een-IIur  left  Antioch  to  go  out  with  Sheik  Ilderim  into 
the  desert. 

A  great  change  lias  befallen — great  at  least  as  respects 
the  fortunes  of  our  hero.  Valerius  Gratus  has  been  suc 
ceeded  by  Pontius  Pilate  ! 

The  removal,  it  may  be  remarked,  cost  Simonides  exact 
ly  five  talents  Roman  money  in  hand  paid  to  Sejanus,  who 
was  then  in  height  of  power  as  imperial  favorite  ;  the  ob 
ject  being  to  help  Bcn-IIur,  by  lessening  his  exposure 
while  in  and  about  Jerusalem  attempting  discovery  of  his 
people.  To  such  pious  use  the  faithful  servant  put  the 
winnings  from  Drusus  and  his  associates ;  all  of  whom, 
having  paid  their  wagers,  became  at  once  and  naturally  the 
enemies  of  Messala,  whose  repudiation  was  yet  an  unsettled 
question  in  Rome. 

Brief  as  the  time  was,  already  the  Jews  knew  the  change 
of  rulers  was  not  for  the  better. 

The  cohorts  sent  to  relieve  the  garrison  of  Antonia  made 
their  (kitry  into  the  city  by  night ;  next  morning  the  first 
sight  that  greeted  the  people  resident  in  the  neighborhood 


392  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

was  the  walls  of  the  old  Tower  decorated  with  military  en 
signs,  which  unfortunately  consisted  of  busts  of  the  em 
peror  mixed  with  eagles  and  globes.  A  multitude,  in  pas 
sion,  marched  to  Caesarea,  where  Pilate  was  lingering,  and 
implored  him  to  remove  the  detested  images.  Five  days 
and  nights  they  beset  his  palace  gates  ;  at  last  he  appointed 
a  meeting  with  them  in  the  Circus.  When  they  were  as 
sembled,  he  encircled  them  with  soldiers ;  instead  of  resist 
ing,  they  offered  him  their  lives,  and  conquered.  He  re 
called  the  images  and  ensigns  to  Cassarea,  where  Gratus, 
with  more  consideration,  had  kept  such  abominations 
housed  during  the  eleven  years  of  his  reign. 

The  worst  of  men  do  once  in  a  while  vary  their  wicked 
nesses  by  good  acts ;  so  with  Pilate.  He  ordered  an  in 
spection  of  all  the  prisons  in  Judea,  and  a  return  of  the 
names  of  the  persons  in  custody,  with  a  statement  of  the 
crimes  for  which  they  had  been  committed.  Doubtless  the 
motive  was  the  one  so  common  with  officials  just  installed 
— dread  of  entailed  responsibility ;  the  people,  however,  in 
thought  of  the  good  which  might  come  of  the  measure, 
gave  him  credit,  and,  for  a  period,  were  comforted.  The 
revelations  were  astonishing.  Hundreds  of  persons  were 
released  against  whom  there  were  no  accusations ;  many 
others  came  to  light  who  had  long  been  accounted  dead; 
yet  more  amazing,  there  was  opening  of  dungeons  not 
merely  unknown  at  the  time  by  the  people,  but  actually  for 
gotten  by  the  prison  authorities.  With  one  instance  of 
the  latter  kind  we  have  now  to  deal ;  and,  strange  to  say, 
it  occurred  in  Jerusalem. 

The  Tower  of  Antonia,  which  will  be  remembered  as  oc 
cupying  two  thirds  of  the  sacred  area  on  Mount  Moriah, 
was  originally  a  castle  built  by  the  Macedonians.  After 
wards,  John  Hyrcanus  erected  the  castle  into  a  fortress  for 
the  defence  of  the  Temple,  and  in  his  day  it  was  consid 
ered  impregnable  to  assault ;  but  when  Herod  came  with 
his  bolder  genius,  he  strengthened  its  walls  and  extended 
them,  leaving  a  vast  pile  which  included  every  appurte 
nance  necessary  for  the  stronghold  he  intended  it  to  be  for 
ever  ;  such  as  offices,  barracks,  armories,  magazines,  cisterns, 
and  last,  though  not  least,  prisons  of  all  grades.  He  levelled 


BEN-I1UR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CIIMST.  393 

the  solid  rock,  and  tapped  it  with  deep  excavations,  and 
built  over  them  ;  connecting  the  whole  great  mass  with  the 
Temple  by  a  beautiful  colonnade,  from  the  roof  of  which 
one  could  look  down  over  the  courts  of  the  sacred  struct 
ure.  In  such  condition  the  Tower  fell  at  last  out  of  his 
hands  into  those  of  the  Romans,  who  were  quick  to  see  its 
strength  and  advantages,  and  convert  it  to  uses  becoming 
such  masters.  All  through  the  administration  of  Gratus 
it  had  been  a  garrisoned  citadel  and  underground  prison 
terrible  to  revolutionists.  Woe  when  the  cohorts  poured 
from  its  gates  to  suppress  disorder !  Woe  not  less  when 
a  Jew  passed  the  same  gates  going  in  under  arrest ! 

AVith  this  explanation,  we  hasten  to  our  story. 
****** 

The  order  of  the  new  procurator  requiring  a  report  of 
the  persons  in  custody  was  received  at  the  Tower  of  Anto- 
nia,  and  promptly  executed  ;  and  two  days  have  gone  since 
the  last  unfortunate  was  brought  up  for  examination.  The 
tabulated  statement,  ready  for  forwarding,  lies  on  the  table  of 
the  tribune  in  command  ;  in  five  minutes  more  it  will  be  on 
the  way  to  Pilate,  sojourning  in  the  palace  up  on  Mount  Zion. 

The  tribune's  office  is  spacious  and  cool,  and  furnished 
in  a  style  suitable  to  the  dignity  of  the  commandant  of  a 
post  in  every  respect  so  important.  Looking  in  upon  him 
about  the  seventh  hour  of  the  day,  the  officer  appears 
weary  and  impatient ;  when  the  report  is  despatched,  he 
will  to  the  roof  of  the  colonnade  for  air  and  exercise,  and 
the  amusement  to  be  had  watching  the  Jews  over  in  the 
courts  of -the  Temple.  His  subordinates  and  clerks  share 
his  impatience. 

In  the  spell  of  waiting  a  man  appeared  in  a  doorway 
leading  to  an  adjoining  apartment.  He  rattled  a  bunch  of 
keys,  each  heavy  as  a  hammer,  and  at  once  attracted  the 
chief's  attention. 

'"Ah,  Gesius !  come  in,"  the  tribune  said. 

As  the  new-comer  approached  the  table  behind  which 
the  chief  sat  in  ah  easy-chair,  everybody  present  looked  at 
him,  and,  observing  a  certain  expression  of  alarm  and  mor- 
titication  on  his  face,  became  silent  that  they  might  hear 
what  he  had  to  say. 


394  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  O  tribune !"  ho  began,  bending  low,  "  I  fear  to  tell 
what  now  I  bring  you." 

"  Another  mistake — ha,  Gesius  ?" 

"  If  I  could  persuade  myself  it  is  but  a  mistake,  I  would 
not  be  afraid." 

"A  crime  then — or,  worse,  a  breach  of  duty.  Thou 
mayst  laugh  at  Caesar,  or  curse  the  gods,  and  live ;  but  if 
the  offence  be  to  the  eagles — ah,  thou  knowest,  Gesius — 
go  on !" 

"  It  is  now  about  eight  years  since  Valerius  Gratus 
selected  me  to  be  keeper  of  prisoners  here  in  the  Tower," 
said  the  man,  deliberately.  "  I  remember  the  morning  I 
entered  upon  the  duties  of  my  office.  There  had  been  a 
riot  the  day  before,  and  fighting  in  the  streets.  We  sle\r 
many  Jews,  and  suffered  on  our  side.  The  affair  came,  it 
was  said,  of  an  attempt  to  assassinate  Gratus,  who  had  been 
knocked  from  his  horse  by  a  tile  thrown  from  a  roof.  I 
found  him  sitting  where  you  now  sit,  O  tribune,  his  head 
swathed  in  bandages.  lie  told  me  of  my  selection,  and 
gave  me  these  keys,  numbered  to  correspond  Avith  the 
numbers  of  the  cells ;  they  were  the  badges  of  my  office, 
he  said,  and  not  to  be  parted  with.  There  was  a  roll  of 
parchment  on  the  table.  Calling  me  to  him,  he  opened  the 
roll.  '  Here  are  maps  of  the  cells,'  said  he.  There  were 
three  of  them.  '  This  one,'  he  went  on, '  shows  the  arrange 
ment  of  the  upper  floor ;  this  second  one  gives  you  the 
second  floor ;  and  this  last  is  of  the  lower  floor.  I  give 
them  to  you  in  trust.'  I  took  them  from  his  hand,  and  he 
said,  further,  'Now  you  have  the  keys  and  the  maps;  go 
immediately,  and  acquaint  yourself  with  the  whole  arrange 
ment  ;  visit  each  cell,  and  see  to  its  condition.  When  any 
thing  is  needed  for  the  security  of  a  prisoner,  order  it  ac 
cording  to  your  judgment,  for  you  are  the  master  under  me, 
and  no  other.' 

"  I  saluted  him,  and  turned  to  go  away ;  he  called  me 
back.  '  Ah,  1  forgot,'  he  said.  '  Give  me  the  map  of  the 
third  floor.'  I  gave  it  to  him,  and  he  spread  it  upon  the 
table.  '  Here,  Gesius,'  he  said, '  see  this  cell.'  He  laid  his 
finger  on  the  one  numbered  V.  '  There  are  three  men  con 
fined  in  that  cell,  desperate  characters,  who  by  some  means 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 


395 


got  hold  of  a  state  secret,  and  suffer  for  their  curiosity, 
which ' — he  looked  at  me  severely — '  in  such  matters  is 
worse  than  a  crime.  Accordingly,  they  are  blind  and 
tongueless,  and  are  placed  there  for  life.  They  shall  have 
nothing  but  food  and  drink,  to  be  given  them  through  a 
hole,  which  you  will  find  in  the  wall  covered  by  a  slide. 
Do  you  hear,  Gesius  ?'  I  made  him  answer.  '  It  is  well,' 
he  continued.  '  One  thing  more  which  you  shall  not  for 
get,  or ' — he  looked  at  me  threateningly —  '  The  door  of 
their  cell — cell  number  V.  on  the  same  floor — this  one, 
Gesius ' — he  put  his  finger  on  the  particular  cell  to  impress 
my  memory — '  shall  never  be  opened  for  any  purpose, 
neither  to  let  one  in  nor  out,  not  even  yourself.'  '  But  if 
they  die  ?'  I  asked.  '  If  they  die,'  he  said,  '  the  cell  shall 
be  their  tomb.  They  were  put  there  to  die,  and  be  lost. 
The  cell  is  leprous.  Do  you  understand  ?'  With  that  he 
let  me  go." 

Gesius  stopped,  and  from  the  breast  of  his  tunic  drew 
three  parchments,  all  much  yellowed  by  time  and  use ;  se 
lecting  one  of  them,  he  spread  it  upon  the  table  before  the 
tribune,  saying,  simply,  "  This  is  the  lower  floor." 

The  whole  company  looked  at 


THE  MAP. 


Passage                       a 

\          

V 

rv 

in 

n 

i 

"  This  is  exactly,  O  tribune,  as  I  had  it  from  Gratus. 
See,  there  is  cell  number  V.,"  said  Gesius. 

"I  see,"  the  tribune  replied.  "Go  on  now.  The  cell 
was  leprous,  he  said." 

"  I  would  like  to  ask  you  a  question,"  remarked  the 
keeper,  modestly. 

The  tribune  assented. 

"  Had  I  not  a  right,  under  the  circumstances,  to  believe 
the  map  a  true  one  ?" 

"  What  else  couldst  thou  ?" 

"  Well,  it  is  not  a  true  one." 


396 


13EN-HUK:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 


The  chief  looked  up  surprised. 

"  It  is  not  a  true  one,"  the  keeper  repeated.  "  It  shows 
out  five  cells  upon  that  floor,  while  there  are  six." 

"  Six,  sayest  thou  ?" 

"  I  will  show  you  the  floor  as  it  is — or  as  I  believe  it  to 
be." 

Upon  a  page  of  his  tablets  Gesius  drew  the  following 
diagram,  and  gave  it  to  the  tribune  : 


V 

IV 

HI 

II 

1 

VI 

"Thou  hast  done  well,"  said  the  tribune,  examining  the 
drawing,  and  thinking  the  narrative  at  an  end.  "  I  will 
have  the  map  corrected,  or,  better,  I  will  have  a  new  one 
made,  and  given  thee.  Come  for  it  in  the  morning." 

So  saying,  he  arose. 

"  But  hear  me  further,  0  tribune." 

"  To-morrow,  Gesius,  to-morrow." 

"  That  which  I  have  yet  to  tell  will  not  wait." 

The  tribune  good-naturedly  resumed  his  chair. 

"  I  will  hurry,"  said  the  keeper,  humbly,  "  only  let  me 
ask  another  question.  Had  I  not  a  right  to  believe  Gratus 
in  what  he  further  told  me  as  to  the  prisoners  in  cell  num 
ber  V.  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  was  thy  duty  to  believe  there  were  three  pris 
oners  in  the  cell — prisoners  of  state — blind  and  without 
tongues." 

"  Well,"  said  the  keeper,  "  that  was  not  true  either." 

"  No  !"  said  the  tribune,  with  returning  interest. 

"  Hear,  and  judge  for  yourself,  O  tribune.  As  required, 
I  visited  all  the  cells,  beginning  with  those  on  the  first 
floor,  and  ending  with  those  on  the  lower.  The  order  that 
the  door  of  number  V.  should  not  be  opened  had  been  re 
spected  ;  through  all  the  eight  years  food  and  drink  for 
three  men  had  been  passed  through  a  hole  in  the  wall.  I 
went  to  the  door  yesterday,  curious  to  see  the  wretches 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  397 

who,  against  all  expectation,  had  lived  so  long.  The  locks 
refused  the  key.  We  pulled  a  little,  and  the  door  fell 
down,  rusted  from  its  hinges.  Going  in,  I  found  but  one 
man,  old,  blind,  tongucless,  and  naked.  His  hair  dropped 
in  stiffened  mats  below  his  waist.  His  skin  was  like  the 
parchment  there,  lie  held  his  hands  out,  and  the  finger 
nails  curled  and  twisted  like  the  claws  of  a  bird.  I  asked 
him  where  his  companions  were.  He  shook  his  head  in 
denial.  Thinking  to  find  the  others,  we  searched  the  cell. 
The  floor  was  dry ;  so  were  the  walls.  If  three  men  had 
been  shut  in  there,  and  two  of  them  had  died,  at  least  their 
bones  would  have  endured." 

"  Wherefore  thou  thinkcst — " 

"  I  think,  O  tribune,  there  has  been  but  one  prisoner 
there  in  the  eight  years." 

The  chief  regarded  the  keeper  sharply,  and  said,  "  Have 
a  care ;  thou  art  more  than  saying  Valerius  lied." 

Gesius  bowed,  but  said,  "  He  might  have  been  mis 
taken." 

"  No,  he  was  right,"  said  the  tribune,  warmly.  "  By 
thine  own  statement  he  was  right.  Didst  thou  not  say 
but  now  that  for  eight  years  food  and  drink  had  been 
furnished  three  men  ?" 

The  bystanders  approved  the  shrewdness  of  their  chief  ; 
yet  Gesius  did  not  seem  discomfited. 

"  You  have  but  half  the  story,  O  tribune.  When  you 
have  it  all,  you  will  agree  with  me.  You  know  what  I  did 
with  the  man :  that  I  sent  him  to  the  bath,  and  had  him 
shorn  and  clothed,  and  then  took  him  to  the  gate  of  the 
Tower,  and  bade  him  go  free.  I  washed  my  hands  of  him. 
To-day  he  came  back,  and  was  brought  to  me.  By  signs 
and  tears  he  at  last  made  me  understand  he  wished  to  re 
turn  to  his  cell,  and  I  so  ordered.  As  they  were  leading 
him  off,  he  broke  away  and  kissed  my  feet,  and,  by  piteous 
dumb  imploration,  insisted  I  should  go  with  him ;  and  I 
went.  The  mystery  of  the  three  men  stayed  in  my  mind. 
I  was  not  satisfied  about  it.  Now  I  am  glad  I  yielded  to 
his  entreaty." 

The  whole  company  at  this  point  became  very  still. 

"When  we  were  in  the  cell  again,  and  the  prisoner 


398  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

knew  it,  he  caught  my  hand  eagerly,  and  led  me  to  a  hole 
like  that  through  which  we  were  accustomed  to  pass  him 
his  food.  Though  large  enough  to  push  your  helmet 
through,  it  escaped  me  yesterday.  Still  holding  my  hand, 
he  put  his  face  to  the  hole  and  gave  a  beast-like  cry.  A 
sound  came  faintly  back.  I  was  astonished,  and  drew  him 
away,  and  called  out,  '  Ho,  here !'  At  first  there  was  no 
answer.  I  called  again,  and  received  back  these  words, 
'  Be  thou  praised,  O  Lord !'  Yet  more  astonishing,  O 
tribune,  the  voice  was  a  woman's.  And  I  asked,  '  Who 
are  you  ?'  and  had  reply,  '  A  woman  of  Israel,  entombed 
here  with  her  daughter.  Help  us  quickly,  or  we  die.'  I 
told  them  to  be  of  cheer,  and  hurried  here  to  know  your 
will." 

The  tribune  arose  hastily. 

"  Thou  wert  right,  Gesius,"  he  said,  "  and  I  see  now. 
The  map  was  a  lie,  and  so  was  the  tale  of  the  three  men. 
There  have  been  better  Romans  than  Valerius  Gratus." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  keeper.  "  I  gleaned  from  the  prisoner 
that  he  had  regularly  given  the  women  of  the  food  and 
drink  he  had  received." 

"  It  is  accounted  for,"  replied  the  tribune,  and  observing 
the  countenances  of  his  friends,  and  reflecting  how  well  it 
would  be  to  have  witnesses,  he  added,  "  Let  us  rescue  the 
women.  Come  all." 

Gesius  was  pleased. 

"  We  will  have  to  pierce  the  wall,"  he  said.  "  I  found 
where  a  door  had  been,  but  it  was  filled  solidly  with  stones 
and  mortar." 

The  tribune  stayed  to  say  to  a  clerk,  "  Send  workmen 
after  me  with  tools.  Make  haste  ;  but  hold  the  report,  for 
I  see  it  will  have  to  be  corrected." 

In  a  short  time  they  were  gone. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  A  WOMAN  of  Israel,  entombed  here  with  her  daughter. 
Help  us  quickly,  or  we  die." 

Such  was  the  reply  Gesius,  the  keeper,  had  from  the  cell 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  TIIE   CHRIST.  399 

which  appears  on  his  amended  map  as  VI.  The  reader, 
when  he  observed  the  answer,  knew  who  the  unfortunates 
were,  and,  doubtless,  said  to  himself,  "  At  last  the  mother 
of  Ben-Hur,  and  Tirzah,  his  sister  !" 

And  so  it  was. 

The  morning  of  their  seizure,  eight  years  before,  they 
had  been  carried  to  the  Tower,  where  Gratus  proposed  to 
put  them  out  of  the  way.  He  had  chosen  the  Tower  for 
the  purpose  as  more  immediately  in  his  own  keeping,  and 
cell  VI.  because,  first,  it  could  be  better  lost  than  any  other ; 
and,  secondly,  it  was  infected  with  leprosy  ;  for  these  pris 
oners  were  not  merely  to  be  put  in  a  safe  place,  but  in  a 
place  to  die.  They  were,  accordingly,  taken  down  by 
slaves  in  the  night-time,  when  there  were  no  witnesses  of 
the  deed  ;  then,  in  completion  of  the  savage  task,  the  same 
slaves  walled  up  the  door,  after  which  they  were  themselves 
separated,  and  sent  away  never  to  be  heard  of  more.  To 
save  accusation,  and,  in  the  event  of  discovery,  to  leave 
himself  such  justification  as  might  be  allowed  in  a  distinc 
tion  between  the  infliction  of  a  punishment  and  the  com 
mission  of  a  double  murder,  Gratus  preferred  sinking  his 
victims  where  natural  death  was  certain,  though  slow. 
That  they  might  linger  along,  he  selected  a  convict  who 
had  been  made  blind  and  tongueless,  and  sank  him  in  the 
only  connecting  cell,  there  to  serve  them  with  food  and 
drink.  Under  no  circumstances  could  the  poor  wretch 
tell  the  tale  or  identify  cither  the  prisoners  or  their  dooms- 
man.  So,  with  a  cunning  partly  due  to  Messala,  the  Roman, 
under  color  of  punishing  a  brood  of  assassins,  smoothed  a 
path  to  confiscation  of  the  estate  of  the  Hurs,  of  which  no 
portion  ever  reached  the  imperial  coffers. 

As  the  last  step  in  the  scheme,  Gratus  summarily  re 
moved  the  old  keeper  of  the  prisons ;  not  because  he 
knew  what  had  been  done — for  he  did  not — but  because, 
knowing  the  underground  floors  as  he  did,  it  would  be 
next  to  impossible  to  keep  the  transaction  from  him. 
Then,  with  masterly  ingenuity,  the  procurator  had  new 
maps  drawn  for  delivery  to  a  new  keeper,  with  the  omis 
sion,  as  we  have  seen,  of  cell  VI.  The  instructions  given 
the  latter,  taken  with  the  omission  on  the  map,  acconi- 


400  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

pfishecl  the  design — the  cell  and  its  unhappy  tenants  were 
all  alike  lost. 

What  may  be  thought  of  the  life  of  the  mother  and 
daughter  during  the  eight  years  must  have  relation  to  their 
culture  and  previous  hahits.  Conditions  are  pleasant  or 
grievous  to  us  according  to  our  sensibilities.  It  is  not  ex 
treme  to  say,  if  there  was  a  sudden  exit  of.  all  men  from 
the  world,  heaven,  as  prefigured  in  the  Christian  idea, 
would  not  be  a  heaven  to  the  majority  ;  on  the  other  hand, 
neither  would  all  suffer  equally  in  the  so-called  Tophet. 
Cultivation  has  its  balances.  As  the  mind  is  made  intelli 
gent,  the  capacity  of  the  soul  for  pure  enjoyment  is  pro 
portionally  increased.  Well,  therefore,  if  it  be  saved  !  If 
lost,  however,  alas  that  it  ever  had  cultivation !  its  capac 
ity  for  enjoyment  in  the  one  case  is  the  measure  of  its  ca 
pacity  to  suffer  in  the  other.  Wherefore  repentance  must 
be  something  more  than  mere  remorse  for  sins ;  it  com 
prehends  a  change  of  nature  befitting  heaven. 

We  repeat,  to  form  an  adequate  idea  of  the  suffering  en 
dured  by  the  mother  of  Ben-IIur,  the  reader  must  think  of 
her  spirit  and  its  sensibilities  as  much  as,  if  not  more  than, 
of  the  conditions  of  the  immurement ;  the  question  being, 
not  what  the  conditions  were,  but  how  she  was  affected  by 
them.  And  now  we  may  be  permitted  to  say  it  was  in 
anticipation  of  this  thought  that  the  scene  in  the  summer- 
house  on  the  roof  of  the  family  palace  was  given  so  fully 
in  the  beginning  of  the  Second  Book  of  our  story.  So, 
too,  to  be  helpful  when  the  inquiry  should  come  up,'we  ven 
tured  the  elaborate  description  of  the  palace  of  the  Ilurs. 

In  other  words,  let  the  serene,  happy,  luxurious  life  in 
the  princely  house  be  recalled  and  contrasted  with  this 
existence  in  the  lower  dungeon  of  the  Tower  of  Antonia ; 
then  if  the  reader,  in  his  effort  to  realize  the  misery  of 
the  woman,  persists  in  mere  reference  to  conditions  phys 
ical,  he  cannot  go  amiss  ;  as  he  is  a  lover  of  his  kind,  ten 
der  of  heart,  he  will  be  melted  with  much  sympathy.  But 
will  he  go  further ;  will  he  more  than  sympathize  with 
her ;  will  he  share  her  agony  of  mind  and  spirit ;  will  ha 
at  least  try  to  measure  it — let  him  recall  her  as  she  dis 
coursed  to  ker  sou  of  God  and  nations  and  heroes  ;  one  mo- 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  401 

ment  a  philosopher,  the  next  a  teacher,  and  all  the  time  a 
mother. 

Would  you  hurt  a  man  keenest,  strike  at  his  self-love ; 
would  you  hurt  a  woman  worst,  aim  at  her  affections. 

With  quickened  remembrance  of  these  unfortunates — 
remembrance  of  them  as  they  were — let  us  go  down  and 
see  them  as  they  are. 

The  cell  VI.  was  in  form  as  Gesius  drew  it  on  his  map. 
Of  its  dimensions  but  little  idea  can  be  had  ;  enough  that 
it  was  a  roomy,  roughened  interior,  with  ledged  and  broken 
walls  and  floors. 

In  the  beginning,  the  site  of  the  Macedonian  Castle  was 
separated  from  the  site  of  the  Temple  by  a  narrow  but 
deep  cliff  somewhat  in  shape  of  a  wedge.  The  workmen, 
wishing  to  hew  out  a  series  of  chambers,  made  their  entry 
in  the  north  face  of  the  cleft,  and  worked  in,  leaving  a 
ceiling  of  the  natural  stone  ;  delving  farther,  they  executed 
the  cells  V.,  IV.,  III.,  II.,  I.,  Avith  no  connection  with  num 
ber  VI.  except  through  number  V.  In  like  manner,  they 
constructed  the  passage  and  stairs  to  the  floor  above.  The 
process  of  the  work  was  precisely  that  resorted  to  in  carv 
ing  out  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings,  yet  to  be  seen  a  short 
distance  north  of  Jerusalem  ;  only  when  the  cutting  was 
done,  cell  VI.  was  enclosed  on  its  outer  side  by  a  wall  of 
prodigious  stones,  in  which,  for  ventilation,  narrow  aper 
tures  were  left  bevelled  like  modern  port-holes.  Herod, 
when  he  took  hold  of  the  Temple  and  Tower,  put  a  facing 
yet  more  massive  upon  this  outer  wall,  and  shut  up  all  the 
apertures  but  one,  which  yet  admitted  a  little  vitalizing  air, 
and  a  ray  of  light  not  nearly  strong  enough  to  redeem  the 
room  from  darkness. 

Such  was  cell  VI. 

Startle  not  now  ! 

The  description  of  the  blind -and  tongueless  wretch  just 
liberated  from  cell  V.  may  be  accepted  to  breaK  the  horror 
of  what  is  coming. 

The  two  women  are  grouped  close  by  the  aperture ;  one 
is  seated,  the  other  is  half-reclining  against  her ;  there  is 
nothing  between  them  and  the  bare  rock.  The  light,  slant 
ing  upward,  strikes  them  with  ghastly  effect,  and  we  can- 
26 


402  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

not  avoid  seeing  tliey  are  without  vesture  or  covering.  At 
the  same  time  we  are  helped  to  the  knowledge  that  love  is 
there  yet,  for  the  two  are  in  each  other's  arms.  Riches 
take  wings,  comforts  vanish,  hope  withers  away,  but  love 
stays  with  us.  Love  is  God. 

Where  the  two  are  thus  grouped  the  stony  floor  is  pol 
ished  shining-smooth.  "Who  shall  say  how  much  of  the 
eight  years  they  have  spent  in  that  space  there  in  front 
of  the  aperture,  nursing  their  hope  of  rescue  by  that  timid 
yet  friendly  ray  of  light  ?  When  the  brightness  came 
creeping  in,  they  knew  it  was  dawn ;  when  it  began  to 
fade,  they  knew  the  world  was  hushing  for  the  night, 
which  could  not  be  anywhere  so  long  and  utterly  dark  as 
with  them.  The  world !  Through  that  crevice,  as  if  it 
were  broad  and  high  as  a  king's  gate,  they  went  to  the 
world  in  thought,  and  passed  the  weary  time  going  up  and 
down  as  spirits  go,  looking  aud  asking,  the  one  for  her 
son,  the  other  for  her  brother.  On  the  seas  they  sought 
him,  and  on  the  islands  of  the  seas ;  to-day  he  was  in  this 
city,  to-morrow  in  that  other ;  and  everywhere,  and  at  all 
times,  he  was  a  flitting  sojourner ;  for,  as  they  lived  wait 
ing  for  him,  he  lived  looking  for  them.  How  often  their 
thoughts  passed  each  other  in  the  endless  search,  his  com 
ing,  theirs  going  !  It  was  such  sweet  flattery  for  them  to 
say  to  each  other,  "  While  he  lives,  we  shall  not  be  forgot 
ten  ;  so  long  as  he  remembers  us,  there  is  hope !"  The 
strength  one  can  eke  from  little,  who  knows  till  he  has 
been  subjected  to  the  trial  ? 

Our  recollections  of  them  in  former  days  enjoin  us  to  be 
respectful ;  their  sorrows  clothe  them  with  sanctity.  With 
out  going  too  near,  across  the  dungeon,  we  see  they  have 
undergone  a  change  of  appearance  not  to  be  accounted  for 
by  time  or  long  confinement.  The  mother  was  beautiful  as 
a  woman,  the  daughter  beautiful  as  a  child ;  not  even  love 
could  say  so  much  now.  Their  hair  is  long,  unkempt,  and 
strangely  Avhite  ;  they  make  us  shrink  and  shudder  with  an 
indefinable  repulsion,  though  the  effect  may  be  from  an 
illusory  glozing  of  the  light  glimmering  dismally  through 
the  unhealthy  murk  ;  or  they  may  be  enduring  the  tortures 
of  hunger  and  thirst,  not  having  had  to  eat  or  drink  since 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST.  403 

their  servant,  the  convict,  was  taken  away — that  is,  since 
yesterday. 

Tirzah,  reclining  against  her  mother  in  half  embrace, 
moans  piteously. 

"  Be  quiet,  Tirzah.  They  will  come.  God  is  good. 
We  have  been  mindful  of  him,  and  forgotten  not  to  pray 
at  every  sounding  of  the  trumpets  over  in  the  Temple. 
The  light,  you  see,  is  still  bright ;  the  sun  is  standing  in 
the  south  sky  yet,  and  it  is  hardly  more  than  the  seventh 
hour.  Somebody  will  come  to  us.  Let  us  have  faith. 
God  is  good." 

Thus  the  mother.  The  words  were  simple  and  effective, 
although,  eight  years  being  now  to  be  added  to  the  thirteen 
she  had  attained  when  last  we  saw  her,  Tirzah  was  no  longer 
a  child. 

"  I  will  try  and  be  strong,  mother,"  she  said.  "  Your 
suffering  must  be  great  as  mine  ;  and  I  do  so  want  to  live 
for  you  and  my  brother  !  But  my  tongue  burns,  my  lips 
scorch.  I  wonder  where  he  is,  and  if  he  will  ever,  ever 
find  us !" 

There  is  something  in  the  voices  that  strikes  us  singular 
ly — an  unexpected  tone,  sharp,  dry,  metallic,  unnatural. 

The  mother  draws  the  daughter  closer  to  her  breast,  and 
says,  "  I  dreamed  about  him  last  night,  and  saw  him  as 
plainly,  Tirzah,  as  I  see  you.  We  must  believe  in  dreams, 
you  know,  because  our  fathers  did.  The  Lord  spoke  to 
them  so  often  in  that  way.  I  thought  we  were  in  the 
Women's  Court  just  before  the  Gate  Beautiful ;  there  were 
many  women  with  us  ;  and  he  came  and  stood  in  the  shade 
of  the  Gate,  and  looked  here  and  there,  at  this  one  and 
that.  My  heart  beat  strong.  I  knew  he  was  looking  for 
us,  and  stretched  my  arms  to  him,  and  ran,  calling  him. 
He  heard  me  and  saw  me,  but  he  did  not  know  me.  In  a 
moment  he  was  gone." 

"  Would  it  not  be  so,  mother,  if  we  were  to  meet  him  in 
fact  ?  We  are  so  changed." 

"  It  might  be  so ;  but — "  The  mother's  head  droops, 
and  her  face  knits  as  with  a  wrench  of  pain;  recovering, 
however,  she  goes  on — "  but  we  could  make  ourselves 
known  to  him." 


404  BEN-I1UR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST, 

Tirzah  tossed  her  arms,  and  moaned  again. 

"  Water,  mother,  water,  though  but  a  drop." 

The  mother  stares  around  in  blank  helplessness.  She 
has  named  God  so  often,  and  so  often  promised  in  his 
name,  the  repetition  is  beginning  to  have  a  mocking  effect 
upon  herself.  A  shadow  passes  before  her  dimming  the 
dim  light,  and  she  is  brought  down  to  think  of  death  as 
very  near,  waiting  to  come  in  as  her  faith  goes  out.  Hard 
ly  knowing  what  she  does,  speaking  aimlessly,  because 
speak  she  must,  she  says  again, 

"  Patience,  Tirzah  ;  they  are  coming — they  arc  almost 
here." 

She  thought  she  heard  a  sound  over  by  the  little  trap  in 
the  partition-wall  through  which  they  held  all  their  actual 
communication  with  the  world.  And  she  was  not  mistaken. 
A  moment,  and  the  cry  of  the  convict  rang  through  the 
cell.  Tirzah  heard  it  also  ;  and  they  both  arose,  still  keep 
ing  hold  of  each  other. 

"  Praised  be  the  Lord  forever !"  exclaimed  the  mother, 
with  the  fervor  of  restored  faith  and  hope. 

"  Ho,  there !"  they  heard  next ;  and  then, "  Who  are  you  ?" 

The  voice  was  strange.  What  matter?  Except  from 
Tirzah,  they  were  the  first  and  only  words  the  mother  had 
heard  in  eight  years.  The  revulsion  was  mighty — from 
death  to  life — and  so  instantly  ! 

"  A  woman  of  Israel,  entombed  here  with  her  daughter. 
Help  us  quickly,  or  we  die." 

"  Be  of  cheer.     I  will  return." 

The  women  sobbed  aloud.  They  were  found  ;  help  was 
coming.  From  wish  to  wish  hope  flew  as  the  twittering 
swallows  fly.  They  were  found ;  they  would  be  released. 
And  restoration  would  follow — restoration  to  all  they  had 
lost — home,  society,  property,  son  and  brother !  The  scanty 
light  glozed  them  with  the  glory  of  day,  and,  forgetful  of 
pain  and  thirst  and  hunger,  and  of  the  menace  of  death, 
they  sank  upon  the  floor  and  cried,  keeping  fast  hold  of 
each  other  the  while. 

And  this  time  they  had  not  long  to  wait.  Gcsius,  the 
keeper,  told  his  tale  methodically,  but  finished  it  at  last. 
The  tribune  was  prompt. 


BEN-HUB:  A  TALE  OF   THE  CHRIST.  405 

M  Within  there  !"  he  shouted  through  the  trap. 

"  Here  !"  said  the  mother,  rising. 

Directly  she  heard  another  sound  in  another  place,  as  of 
blows  on  the  wall — blows  quick,  ringing,  and  delivered  with 
iron  tools.  She  did  not  speak,  nor  did  Tirzah,  but  they 
listened,  well  knowing  the  meaning  of  it  all — that  a  way  to 
liberty  was  being  made  for  them.  So  men  a  long  time 
buried  in  deep  mines  hear  the  coming  of  rescuers,  heralded 
by  thrust  of  bar  and  beat  of  pick,  and  answer  gratefully 
with  heart  throbs,  their  eyes  fixed  upon  the  spot  whence 
the  sounds  proceed ;  and  they  cannot  look  away,  lest  the 
work  should  cease,  and  they  be  returned  to  despair. 

The  arms  outside  were  strong,  the  hands  skilful,  the  will 
good.  Each  instant  the  blows  sounded  more  plainly  ;  now 
and  then  a  piece  fell  with  a  crash  ;  and  liberty  came  nearer 
and  nearer.  Presently  the  workmen  could  be  heard  speak 
ing.  Then — O  happiness  ! — through  a  crevice  flashed  a 
red  ray  of  torches.  Into  the  darkness  it  cut  incisive  as 
diamond  brilliance,  beautiful  as  if  from  a  spear  of  the  morn 
ing. 

"  It  is  he,  mother,  it  is  he  !  He  has  found  us  at  last !" 
cried  Tirzah,  with  the  quickened  fancy  of  youth. 

But  the  mother  answered  meekly,  "  God  is  good  !" 

A  block  fell  inside,  and  another — then  a  great  mass,  and 
the  door  was  open.  A  man  grimed  with  mortar  and  stone- 
dust  stepped  in,  and  stopped,  holding  a  torch  over  his  head. 
Two  or  three  others  followed  with  torches,  and  stood  aside 
for  the  tribune  to  enter. 

Respect  for  women  is  not  all  a  conventionality,  for  it  is 
the  best  proof  of  their  proper  nature.  The  tribune  stopped, 
because  they  fled  from  him — not  with  fear,  be  it  said,  but 
shame  ;  nor  yet,  0  reader,  from  shame  alone  !  From  the 
obscurity  of  their  partial  hiding  he  heard  these  words,  the 
saddest,  most  dreadful,  most  utterly  despairing  of  the  hu 
man  tongue : 

"  Come  not  near  us — unclean,  unclean  !" 

The  men  flared  their  torches  while  they  stared  at  each 
other. 

"  Unclean,  unclean  !"  came  from  the  corner  again,  a  slow 
tremulous  wail  exceedingly  sorrowful.  With  such  a  cry 


406  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

we  can  imagine  a  spirit  vanishing  from  the  gates  of  Para 
dise,  looking  back  the  while. 

So  the  widow  and  mother  performed  her  duty,  and  in 
the  moment  realized  that  the  freedom  she  had  prayed  for 
and  dreamed  of,  fruit  of  scarlet  and  gold  seen  afar,  was 
but  an  apple  of  Sodom  in  the  hand. 

She  and  Tirzah  were — LEPERS  ! 

Possibly  the  reader  does  not  know  all  the  word  means. 
Let  him  be  told  it  with  reference  to  the  Law  of  that  time, 
only  a  little  modified  in  this. 

"  These  four  are  accounted  as  dead — the  blind,  the  leper, 
the  poor,  and  the  childless."  Thus  the  Talmud. 

That  is,  to  be  a  leper  was  to  be  treated  as  dead — to  be 
excluded  from  the  city  as  a  corpse ;  to  be  spoken  to  by  the 
best  beloved  and  most  loving  only  at  a  distance ;  to  dwell 
with  none  but  lepers  ;  to  be  utterly  unprivileged  ;  to  be  de 
nied  the  rites  of  the  Temple  and  the  synagogue ;  to  go 
about  in  rent  garments  and  with  covered  mouth,  except 
when  crying,  "  Unclean,  unclean  !"  to  find  home  in  the  wil 
derness  or  in  abandoned  tombs ;  to  become  a  material 
ized  spectre  of  Hinnom  and  Gehenna;  to  be  at  all  times 
less  a  living  offence  to  others  than  a  breathing  torment  to 
self ;  afraid  to  die,  yet  without  hope  except  in  death. 

Once — she  might  not  tell  the  day  or  the  year,  for  down 
in  the  haunted  hell  even  time  was  lost — once  the  mother 
felt  a  dry  scurf  in  the  palm  of  her  right  hand,  a  trifle  which 
she  tried  to  wash  away.  It  clung  to  the  member  perti 
naciously  ;  yet  she  thought  but  little  of  the  sign  till  Tirzah 
complained  that  she,  too,  was  attacked  in  the  same  way. 
The  supply  of  water  was  scant,  and  they  denied  themselves 
drink  that  they  might  use  it  as  a  curative.  At  length  the 
whole  hand  was  attacked ;  the  skin  cracked  open,  the  fin 
ger-nails  loosened  from  the  flesh.  There  was  not  much 
pain  withal,  chiefly  a  steadily  increasing  discomfort.  Later 
theift  lips  began  to  parch  and  scam.  One  day  the  mother, 
who  was  cleanly  to  godliness,  and  struggled  against  the 
impurities  of  the  dungeon  with  all  ingenuity,  thinking  the 
enemy  was  taking  hold  on  Tirzah's  face,  led  her  to  the 
light,  and,  looking  with  the  inspiration  of  a  terrible  dread, 
lo !  the  young  girl's  eyebrows  were  white  as  snow. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST.  407 

Oh,  the  anguish  of  that  assurance  ! 

The  mother  sat  awhile  speechless,  motionless,  paralyzed 
of  soul,  and  capable  of  but  one  thought  —  leprosy,  lep 
rosy  ! 

When  she  began  to  think,  mother-like,  it  was  not  of  her 
self,  but  her  child,  and,  mother-like,  her  natural  tenderness 
turned  to  courage,  and  she  made  ready  for  the  last  sacrifice 
of  perfect  heroism.  She  buried  her  knowledge  in  her 
heart ;  hopeless  herself,  she  redoubled  her  devotion  to  Tir- 
zah,  and  with  wonderful  ingenuity — wonderful  chiefly  in 
its  very  inexhaustibility — continued  to  keep  the  daughter 
ignorant  of  what  they  were  beset  with,  and  even  hopeful 
that  it  was  nothing.  She  repeated  her  little  games,  and 
retold  her  stories,  and  invented  new  ones,  and  listened  with 
ever  so  much  pleasure  to  the  songs  she  would  have-  from 
Tirzah,  while  on  her  own  wasting  lips  the  psalms  of  the 
singing  king  of  their  race  served  to  bring  soothing  of  fer- 
getfulness,  and  keep  alive  in  them  both  the  recollection  of 
the  God  who  would  seem  to  have  abandoned  them — the 
world  not  more  lightly  or  utterly. 

Slowly,  steadily,  with  horrible  certainty,  the  disease 
spread,  after  a  while  bleaching  their  heads  white,  eating 
holes  in  their  lips  and  eyelids,  and  covering  their  bodies 
with  scales ;  then  it  fell  to  their  throats,  shrilling  their 
voices,  and  to  their  joints,  hardening  the  tissues  and  carti- 
leges — slowly,  and,  as  the  mother  well  knew,  past  remedy, 
it  was  affecting  their  lungs  and  arteries  and  bones,  at  each 
advance  making  the  sufferers  more  and  more  loathsome ; 
and  so  it  would  continue  till  death,  which  might  be  years 
before  them. 

Another  day  of  dread  at  length  came — the  day  the  moth 
er,  under  impulsion  of  duty,  at  last  told  Tirzah  the  name 
of  their  ailment ;  and  the  two,  in  agony  of  despair,  prayed 
that  the  end  might  come  quickly. 

Still,  as  is  the  force  of  habit,  these  so  afflicted  grew  in 
time  not  merely  to  speak  composedly  of  their  disease  ;  they 
beheld  the  hideous  transformation  of  their  persons  as  of 
course,  and  in  despite  clung  to  existence.  One  tie  to  earth 
remained  to  them  ;  unmindful  of  their  own  loneliness,  they 
kept  up  a  certain  spirit  by  talking  and  dreaming  of  Ben- 


408  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

Hur.  The  mother  promised  reunion  with  him  to  the  sister, 
and  she  to  the  mother,  not  doubting,  either  of  them,  that 
he  was  equally  faithful  to  them,  and  would  be  equally  happy 
of  the  meeting.  And  with  the  spinning  and  respinning  of 
this  slender  thread  they  found  pleasure,  and  excused  their 
not  dying.  In  such  manner  as  we  have  seen,  they  were 
solacing  themselves  the  moment  Gesius  called  them,  at  the 
end  of  twelve  hours'  fasting  and  thirst. 

The  torches  flashed  redly  through  the  dungeon,  and  lib 
erty  was  come.  "  God  is  good,"  the  widow  cried — not  for 
what  had  been,  O  reader,  but  for  what  was.  In  thankful 
ness  for  present  mercy,  nothing  so  becomes  us  as  losing 
sight  of  past  ills. 

The  tribune  came  directly ;  then  in  the  corner  to  which 
she  had  fled,  suddenly  a  sense  of  duty  smote  the  elder  of 
the  women,  and  straightway  the  awful  warning — 
."  Unclean,  unclean !" 

Ah,  the  pang  the  effort  to  acquit  herself  of  that  duty  cost 
the  mother  !  Not  all  the  selfishness  of  joy  over  the  pros 
pect  could  keep  her  blind  to  the  consequences  of  release, 
now  that  it  was  at  hand.  The  old  happy  life  could  never 
be  again.  If  she  went  near  the  house  called  home,  it 
would  be  to  stop  at  the  gate  and  cry,  "  unclean,  unclean  !" 
She  must  go  about  with  the  yearnings  of  love  alive  in  her 
breast  strong  as  ever,  and  more  sensitive  even,  because  re 
turn  in  kind  could  not  be.  The  boy  of  whom  she  had  so 
constantly  thought,  and  with  all  sweet  promises  such  as 
mothers  find  their  purest  delight  in,  must,  at  meeting  her, 
stand  afar  off.  If  he  held  out  his  hands  to  her,  and  called 
"  Mother,  mother,"  for  very  love  of  him  she  must  answer, 
"  Unclean,  unclean  !"  And  this  other  child,  before  whom, 
in  want  of  other  covering,  she  was  spreading  her  long, 
tangled  locks,  bleached  unnaturally  white — ah !  that  she 
was  she  must  continue,  sole  partner  of  her  blasted  remain 
der  of  life.  Yet,  O  reader,  the  brave  woman  accepted  the 
lot,  and  took  up  the  cry  which  had  been  its  sign  immemo- 
rially,  and  which  thenceforward  was  to  be  her  salutation 
without  change — "  Unclean,  unclean !" 

The  tribune  heard  it  with  a  tremor,  but  kept  his  place. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  he  asked. 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  409 

"  Two  women  dying  of  hunger  and  thirst.  Yet " — the 
mother  did  not  falter — "  come  not  near  us,  nor  touch  the 
floor  or  the  wall.  Unclean,  unclean  !" 

"  Give  me  thy  story,  woman — thy  name,  and  when  thou 
wert  put  here,  and  by  whom,  and  for  what." 

"  There  was  once  in  this  city  of  Jerusalem  a  Prince  Ben- 
Hur,  the  friend  of  all  generous  Romans,  and  who  had  Crcsar 
for  his  friend.  I  am  his  widow,  and  this  one  with  me  is 
his  child.  How  may  I  tell  you  for  what  we  were  sunk  here, 
when  I  do  not  know,  unless  it  was  because  we  were  rich  ? 
Valerius  Gratus  can  tell  you  who  our  enemy  was,  and  when 
our  imprisonment  began.  I  cannot.  See  to  what  we  have 
been  reduced — oh,  see,  and  have  pity  !" 

The  air  was  heavy  with  the  pest  and  the  smoke  of  the 
torches,  yet  the  Roman  called  one  of  the  torch-bearers  to 
his  side,  and  wrote  the  answer  nearly  word  for  word.  It 
was  terse  and  comprehensive,  containing  at  once  a  history, 
an  accusation,  and  a  prayer.  No  common  person  could 
have  made  it,  and  he  could  not  but  pity  and  believe. 

"Thou  shalt  have  relief,  woman,"  he  said,  closing  the 
tablets.  "  I  will  send  thee  food  and  drink." 

"  And  raiment,  and  purifying  water,  we  pray  you,  0  gen 
erous  Roman !" 

"  As  thou  wilt,"  he  replied. 

"  God  is  good,"  said  the  widow,  sobbing.  "  May  his 
peace  abide  with  you !" 

"And,  further,"  he  added,"!  cannot  see  thee  again. 
Make  preparation,  and  to-night  I  will  have  thee  taken  to 
the  gate  of  the  Tower,  and  set  free.  Thou  knowest  the 
law.  Farewell." 

He  spoke  to  the  men,  and  went  out  the  door. 

Very  shortly  some  slaves  came  to  the  cell  with  a  large 
gurglet  of  water,  a  basin  and  napkins,  a  platter  with  bread 
and  meat,  and  some  garments  of  women's  wear ;  and,  set 
ting  them  down  within  reach  of  the  prisoners,  they  ran 
away. 

About  the  middle  of  the  first  watch,  the  two  were  con 
ducted  to  the  gate,  and  turned  into  the  street.  So  the  Ro 
man  quit  himself  of  them,  and  in  the  city  of  their  fathers 
they  were  once  more  free. 


410  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

Up  to  the  stars,  twinkling  merrily  as  of  old,  they  looked  ; 
then  they  asked  themselves, 
"  What  next  ?  and  where  to  ?" 


CHAPTER  III. 

ABOUT  the  hour  Gesius,  the  keeper,  made  his  appearance 
before  the  tribune  in  the  Tower  of  Antonia,  a  footman  was 
climbing  the  eastern  face  of  Mount  Olivet.  The  road  was 
rough  and  dusty,  and  vegetation  on  that  side  burned  brown, 
for  it  was  the  dry  season  in  Judea.  Well  for  the  traveller 
that  he  had  youth  and  strength,  not  to  speak  of  the  cool, 
flowing  garments  with  which  he  was  clothed. 

He  proceeded  slowly,  looking  often  to  his  right  and  left ; 
not  with  the  vexed,  anxious  expression  which  marks  a  man 
going  forward  uncertain  of  the  way,  but  rather  the  air  with 
which  one  approaches  an  old  acquaintance  after  a  long  sepa 
ration — half  of  pleasure,  half  of  inquiry  ;  as  if  he  were  say 
ing,  "  I  am  glad  to  be  with  you  again ;  let  me  see  in  what 
you  are  changed." 

As  he  arose  higher,  he  sometimes  paused  to  look  behind 
him  over  the  gradually  widening  view  terminating  in  the 
mountains  of  Moab ;  but  when  at  length  he  drew  near  the 
summit,  he  quickened  his  step,  unmindful  of  fatigue,  and 
hurried  on  without  pause  or  turning  of  the  face.  On  the 
summit — to  reach  which  he  bent  his  steps  somewhat  right 
of  the  beaten  path — he  came  to  a  dead  stop,  arrested  as  if 
by  a  strong  hand.  Then  one  might  have  seen  his  eyes  di 
late,  his  cheeks  flush,  his  breath  quicken,  effects  all  of  one 
bright  sweeping  glance  at  what  lay  before  him. 

The  traveller,  good  reader,  was  no  other  than  Ben-Hur ; 
the  spectacle  Jerusalem. 

Not  the  Holy  City  of  to-day,  but  the  Holy  City  as  left 
by  Herod — the  Holy  City  of  the  Christ.  Beautiful  yet,  as 
seen  from  old  Olivet,  Avhat  must  it  have  been  then  ? 

Ben-Hur  betook  him  to  a  stone  and  sat  down,  and,  strip 
ping  his  head  of  the  close  white  handkerchief  which  served 
it  for  covering,  made  the  survey  at  leisure. 

The  same  has  been  done  often  since  by  a  great  variety 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  411 

of  persons,  under  circumstances  surpassingly  singular — by 
the  son  of  Vespasian,  by  the  Islamite,  by  the  Crusader,  con 
querors  all  of  them  ;  by  many  a  pilgrim  from  the  great  New 
World,  which  waited  discovery  nearly  fifteen  hundred  years 
after  the  time  of  our  story ;  but  of  the  multitude  probably 
not  one  has  taken  that  view  with  sensations  more  keenly 
poignant,  more  sadly  sweet,  more  proudly  bitter,  than  Ben- 
Hur.  He  was  stirred  by  recollections  of  his  countrymen, 
their  triumphs  and  vicissitudes,  their  history  the  history  of 
God.  The  city  was  of  their  building,  at  once  a  lasting  tes 
timony  of  their  crimes  and  devotion,  their  weakness  and 
genius,  their  religion  and  their  irreligion.  Though  he  had 
seen  Rome  to  familiarity,  he  was  gratified.  The  sight  filled 
a  measure  of  pride  which  would  have  made  him  drunk 
with  vainglory  but  for  the  thought,  princely  as  the  property 
was,  it  did  not  any  longer  belong  to  his  countrymen ;  the 
worship  in  the  Temple  was  by  permission  of  strangers ;  the 
hill  where  David  dwelt  Avas  a  marbled  cheat — an  office  in 
which  the  chosen  of  the  Lord  were  wrung  and  wrung  for 
taxes,  and  scourged  for  very  deathlessness  of  faith.  These 
however,  were  pleasures  and  griefs  of  patriotism  common 
to  every  Jew  of  the  period ;  in  addition,  Ben-Hur  brought 
with  him  a  personal  history  which  would  not  out  of  mind 
for  other  consideration  whatever,  which  the  spectacle  served 
only  to  freshen  and  vivify. 

A  country  of  hills  changes  but  little  ;  where  the  hills  are 
of  rock,  it  changes  not  at  all.  The  scene  Bcn-Hur  beheld 
is  the  same  now,  except  as  respects  the  city.  The  failure 
is  in  the  handiwork  of  man  alone. 

The  sun  dealt  more  kindly  by  the  west  side  of  Olivet 
than  by  the  east,  and  men  were  certainly  more  loving  tow 
ards  it.  The  vines  with  which  it  was  partially  clad,  and 
the  sprinkling  of  trees,  chiefly  figs  and  old  wild  olives,  were 
comparatively  green.  Down  to  the  dry  bed  of  the  Cedron 
the  verdure  extended,  a  refreshment  to  the  vision ;  there 
Olivet  ceased  and  Moriah  began — a  wall  of  bluff  boldness, 
white  as  snow,  founded  by  Solomon,  completed  by  Herod. 
Up,  up  the  wall  the  eye  climbed  course  by  course  of  the 
ponderous  rocks  composing  it — up  to  Solomon's  Porch, 
which  was  as  the  pedestal  of  the  monument,  the  hill  being 


412  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

the  plinth.  Lingering  there  a  moment,  the  eye  resumed 
its  climbing,  going  next  to  the  Gentiles'  Court,  then  to  the 
Israelites'  Court,  then  to  the  Women's  Court,  then  to  the 
Court  of  the  Priests,  each  a  pillared  tier  of  white  marble, 
one  above  the  other  in  terraced  retrocession  ;  over  them  all 
a  crown  of  crowns  infinitely  sacred,  infinitely  beautiful, 
majestic  in  proportions,  effulgent  with  beaten  gold — lo  ! 
the  Tent,  the  Tabernacle,  the  Holy  of  Holies.  The  Ark 
was  not  there,  but  Jehovah  was — in  the  faith  of  every  child 
of  Israel  he  was  there  a  personal  Presence.  As  a  temple, 
as  a  monument,  there  was  nowhere  anything  of  man's  build 
ing  to  approach  that  superlative  apparition.  Now,  not  a 
stone  of  it  remains  above  another.  Who  shall  rebuild  that 
building  ?  When  shall  the  rebuilding  be  begun  ?  So  asks 
every  pilgrim  who  has  stood  where  Ben-Hur  was — he  asks, 
knowing  the  answer  is  in  the  bosom  of  God,  whose  secrets 
are  not  least  marvellous  in  their  well-keeping.  And  then 
the  third  question,  What  of  him  who  foretold  the  ruin 
which  has  so  certainly  befallen  ?  God  ?  Or  man  of  God  ? 
Or — enough  that  the  question  is  for  us  to  answer. 

And  still  Ben-Hur's  eyes  climbed  on  and  up — up  over 
the  roof  of  the  Temple,  to  the  hill  Zion,  consecrated  to  sa 
cred  memories,  inseparable  from  the  anointed  kings.  He 
knew  the  Cheesemonger's  Valley  dipped  deep  down  between 
Moriah  and  Zion  ;  that  it  was  spanned  by  the  Xystus  ;  that 
there  were  gardens  and  palaces  in  its  depths  ;  but  over  them 
all  his  thoughts  soared  with  his  vision  to  the  great  group 
ing  on  the  royal  hill — the  house  of  Caiaphas,  the  Central 
Synagogue,  the  Roman  Prsetorium,  Hippicus  the  eternal, 
and  the  sad  but  mighty  cenotaphs  Phasrelus  and  Mariamne 
— all  relieved  against  Gareb,  purpling  in  the  distance.  And 
when  midst  them  he  singled  out  the  palace  of  Herod,  what 
could  he  but  think  of  the  King  Who  Was  Coming,  to  whom 
he  was  himself  devoted,  whose  path  he  had  undertaken  to 
smooth,  whose  empty  hands  he  dreamed  of  filling  ?  And 
forward  ran  his  fancy  to  the  day  the  new  King  should 
come  to  claim  his  own  and  take  possession  of  it — of  Mo 
riah  and  its  Temple ;  of  Zion  and  its  towers  and  palaces ; 
of  Antonia,  frowning  darkly  there  just  to  the  right  of  the 
Temple ;  of  the  new  unwalled  city  of  Bezetha ;  of  the 


BEX-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE  CHKIST.  413 

millions  of  Israel  to  assemble  with  palm-branches  and  ban 
ners,  to  sing  rejoicing  because  the  Lord  had  conquered  and 
given  them  the  world. 

Men  speak  of  dreaming  as  if  it  were  a  phenomenon  of 
night  and  sleep.  They  should  know  better.  All  results 
achieved  by  us  are  self-promised,  and  all  self-promises  are 
made  in  dreams  awake.  Dreaming  is  the  relief  of  labor, 
the  wine  that  sustains  us  in  act.  We  learn  to  love  labor, 
not  for  itself,  but  for  the  opportunity  it  furnishes  for  dream 
ing,  which  is  the  great  under-monotone  of  real  life,  un 
heard,  unnoticed,  because  of  its  constancy.  Living  is 
dreaming.  Only  in  the  grave  are  there  no  dreams.  Let 
no  one  smile  at  Ben-Hur  for  doing  that  which  he  himself 
would  have  done  at  that  time  and  place  under  the  same 
circumstances. 

The  sun  stooped  low  in  its  course.  Awhile  the  flaring 
disk  seemed  to  perch  itself  on  the  far  summit  of  the  moun 
tains  in  the  west,  brazening  all  the  sky  above  the  city,  and 
rimming  the  walls  and  towers  with  the  brightness  of  gold. 
Then  it  disappeared  as  with  a  plunge.  The  quiet  turned 
Ben-Hur's  thought  homeward.  There  was  a  point  in  the 
sky  a  little  north  of  the  peerless  front  of  the  Holy  of  Holies 
upon  which  he  fixed  his  gaze  :  under  it,  straight  as  a  lead 
line  would  have  dropped,  lay  his  father's  house,  if  yet  the 
house  endured. 

The  mellowing  influences  of  the  evening  mellowed  his 
feelings,  and,  putting  his  ambitions  aside,  he  thought  of  the 
duty  that  was  bringing  him  to  Jerusalem. 

Out  in  the  desert  while  with  Ilderim,  looking  for  strong 
places  and  acquainting  himself  with  it  generally,  as  a  sol 
dier  studies  a  country  in  which  he  has  projected  a  cam 
paign,  a  messenger  came  one  evening  with  the  news  that 
Gratus  was  removed,  and  Pontius  Pilate  sent  to  take  his 
place. 

Mcssala  was  disabled  and  believed  him  dead ;  Gratus 
was  powerless  and  gone ;  why  should  Bcn-IIur  longer  de 
fer  the  search  for  his  mother  and  sister  ?  There  w-as  noth 
ing  to  fear  now.  If  he  could  not  himself  see  into  the 
prisons  of  Judea,  he  could  examine  them  with  the  eyes  of 
others.  If  the  lost  were  found,  Pilate  could  have  no  mo- 


414  BEN-HUK:    A  TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

live  in  holding  them  in  custody — none,  at  least,  which 
could  not  be  overcome  by  purchase.  If  found,  he  would 
carry  them  to  a  place  of  safety,  and  then,  in  calmer  mind, 
his  conscience  at  rest,  this  one  first  duty  done,  he  could 
give  himself  more  entirely  to  the  King  Who  Was  Coming. 
He  resolved  at  once.  That  night  he  counselled  with  Ilde- 
rim,  and  obtained  his  assent.  Three  Arabs  came  with 
him  to  Jericho,  where  he  left  them  and  the  horses,  and 
proceeded  alone  and  on  foot.  Malluch  was  to  meet  him  in 
Jerusalem. 

Ben-Hur's  scheme,  be  it  observed,  was  as  yet  a  general- 
ity. 

In  view  of  the  future,  it  was  advisable  to  keep  himself  in 
hiding  from  the  authorities,  particularly  the  Romans.  Mal 
luch  was  shrewd  and  trusty  ;  the  very  man  to  charge  with 
the  conduct  of  the  investigation. 

Where  to  begin  was  the  first  point.  He  had  no  clear 
idea  about  it.  His  wish  was  to  commence  with  the  Tower 
of  Antonia.  Tradition  not  of  long  standing  planted  the 
gloomy  pile  over  a  labyrinth  of  prison-cells,  which,  more 
even  than  the  strong  garrison,  kept  it  a  terror  to  the  Jew 
ish  fancy.  A  burial,  such  as  his  people  had  been  subjected 
to,  might  be  possible  there.  Besides,  in  such  a  strait,  the 
natural  inclination  is  to  start  search  at  the  place  where  the 
loss  occurred,  and  he  could  not  forget  that  his  last  sight  of 
the  loved  ones  was  as  the  guard  pushed  them  along  the 
street  in  the  direction  to  the  Tower.  If  they  were  not 
there  now,  but  had  been,  some  record  of  the  fact  must  re 
main,  a  clew  which  had  only  to  be  followed  faithfully  to  the 
end. 

Under  this  inclination,  moreover,  there  was  a  hope  which 
he  could  not  forego.  From  Simonides  he  knew  Amrah, 
the  Egyptian  nurse,  was  living.  It  will  be  remembered, 
doubtless,  that  the  faithful  creature,  the  morning  the  ca 
lamity  overtook  the  Hurs,  broke  from  the  guard  and  ran 
back  into  the  palace,  where,  along  with  other  chattels,  she 
had  been  sealed  up.  During  the  years  following,  Simon- 
ides  kept  her  supplied ;  so  she  Avas  there  now,  sole  occu 
pant  of  the  great  house,  which,  with  all  his  offers,  Gratus 
had  not  been  able  to  sell.  The  story  of  its  rightful  owners 


BEN-HUE:    A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  415 

sufficed  to  secure  the  property  from  strangers,  whether 
purchasers  or  mere  occupants.  People  going  to  and  fro 
passed  it  with  whispers.  Its  reputation  was  that  of  a 
haunted  house ;  derived  probably  from  the  infrequent 
glimpses  of  poor  old  Amrah,  sometimes  on  the  roof,  some 
times  in  a  latticed  window.  Certainly  no  more  constant 
spirit  ever  abided  than  she  ;  nor  was  there  ever  a  tenement 
so  shunned  and  fitted  for  ghostly  habitation.  Now,  if  he 
could  get  to  her,  Ben-Hur  fancied  she  could  help  him  to 
knowledge  which,  though  faint,  might  yet  be  serviceable. 
Anyhow,  sight  of  her  in  that  place,  so  endeared  by  recol 
lection,  would  be  to  him  a  pleasure  next  to  finding  the  ob 
jects  of  his  solicitude. 

So,  first  of  all  things,  he  would  go  to  the  old  house,  and 
look  for  Amrah. 

Thus  resolved,  he  arose  shortly  after  the  going-down  of 
the  sun,  and  began  descent  of  the  Mount  by  the  road  which, 
from  the  summit,  bends  a  little  north  of  east.  Down  nearly 
at  the  foot,  close  by  the  bed  of  the  Cedron,  he  came  to  the 
intersection  with  the  road  leading  south  to  the  village  of 
Siloam  and  the  pool  of  that  name.  There  he  fell  in  with 
a  herdsman  driving  some  sheep  to  market.  He  spoke  to 
the  man,  and  joined  him,  and  in  his  company  passed  by 
Gethscmane  on  into  the  city  through  the  Fish  Gate. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IT  was  dark  when,  parting  with  the  drover  inside  the 
gate,  Ben-Hur  turned  into  a  narrow  lane  leading  to  the 
south.  A  few  of  the  people  whom  he  met  saluted  him. 
The  bouldering  of  the  pavement  was  rough.  The  houses 
on  both  sides  were  low,  dark,  and  cheerless ;  the  doors  all 
closed :  from  the  roofs,  occasionally,  he  heard  women  croon 
ing  to  children.  The  loneliness  of  his  situation,  the  night, 
the  uncertainty  cloaking  the  object  of  his  coming,  all  af 
fected  him  cheerlessly.  With  feelings  sinking  lower  and 
lower,  he  came  directly  to  the  deep  reservoir  now  known 
as  the  Pool  of  Bcthcsda,  in  which  the  water  reflected  the 
over-pending  sky.  Looking  up,  he  beheld  the  northern 


410  BEN-HUB:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

wall  of  the  Tower  of  Antonia,  a  black  frowning  heap  reared 
into  the  dim  steel-gr?y  sky.  lie  halted  as  if  challenged 
by  a  threatening  sentinel. 

The  Tower  stood  up  so  high,  and  seemed  so  vast,  resting 
apparently  upon  foundations  so  sure,  that  he  was  con 
strained  to  acknowledge  its  strength.  If  his  mother  were 
there  in  living  burial,  what  could  he  do  for  her  ?  By  the 
strong  hand,  nothing.  An  army  might  beat  the  stonv  face 
with  ballista  and  ram,  and  be  laughed  at.  Against  him 
alone  the  gigantic  southeast  turret  looked  down  in  the  self- 
containment  of  a  hill.  And  he  thought,  cunning  is  so  easily 
baffled ;  and  God,  always  the  last  resort  of  the  helpless — 
God  is  sometimes  so  slow  to  act ! 

In  doubt  and  misgiving,  he  turned  into  the  street  in 
front  of  the  Tower  and  followed  it  slowly  on  to  the 
west. 

Over  in  Bezetha  he  knew  there  was  a  khan,  where  it  was 
his  intention  to  seek  lodging  while  in  the  city ;  but  just 
now  he  could  not  resist  the  impulse  to  go  home.  His  heart 
drew  him  that  way. 

The  old  formal  salutation  which  he  received  from  the  few 
people  who  passed  him  had  never  sounded  so  pleasantly. 
Presently  all  the  eastern  sky  began  to  silver  and  shine,  and 
objects  before  invisible  in  the  west — chiefly  the  tall  towers 
on  Mount  Zion  —  emerged  as  from  a  shadowy  depth,  and 
put  on  spectral  distinctness,  floating,  as  it  were,  above  the 
yawning  blackness  of  the  valley  below,  very  castles  in  the 
air. 

lie  came,  at  length,  to  his  father's  house. 

Of  those  who  read  this  page,  some  there  will  be  to  di 
vine  his  feelings  without  prompting.  They  are  such  as 
had  happy  homes  in  their  youth,  no  matter  how  far  that 
may  have  been  back  in  time — homes  which  are  now  the 
starting-points  of  all  recollection ;  paradises  from  which 
they  went  forth  in  tears,  and  which  they  would  now  return 
to,  if  they  could,  as  little  children  ;  places  of  laughter  and 
singing,  and  associations  dearer  than  any  or  all  the  tri 
umphs  of  after-life. 

At  the  gate  on  the  north  side  of  the  old  house  Ben-Hur 
stopped.  In  the  corners  the  wax  used  in  the  sealing-up 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST.  417 

was  still  plainly  seen,  and  across  the  valves  was  the  board 
with  the  inscription — 

"  Tins  is  THE  PROPERTY  OF 
THE   EMPEROR." 

Nobody  had  gone  in  or  out  the  gate  since  the  dreadful 
day  of  the  separation.  Should  he  knock  as  of  old  ?  It 
was  useless,  he  knew ;  yet  he  could  not  resist  the  tempta 
tion.  Amrah  might  hear,  and  look  out  of  one  of  the  win 
dows  on  that  side.  Taking  a  stone,  he  mounted  the  broad 
stone  step,  and  tapped  three  times.  A  dull  echo  replied. 
He  tried  again,  louder  than  before ;  and  again,  pausing 
each  time  to  listen.  The  silence  was  mocking.  Retiring 
into  the  street,  he  watched  the  windows ;  but  they,  too, 
were  lifeless.  The  parapet  on  the  roof  was  defined  sharply 
against  the  brightening  sky ;  nothing  could  have  stirred 
upon  it  unseen  by  him,  and  nothing  did  stir. 

From  the  north  side  he  passed  to  the  west,  where  there 
were  four  windows  which  lie  watched  long  and  anxiously, 
but  with  as  little  effect.  At  times  his  heart  swelled  with 
impotent  wishes ;  at  others,  he  trembled  at  the  deceptions 
of  his  own  fancy.  Amrah  made  no  sign — not  even  a  ghost 
stirred. 

Silently,  then,  he  stole  round  to  the  south.  There,  too, 
the  gate  was  sealed  and  inscribed.  The  mellow  splendor 
of  the  August  moon,  pouring  over  the  crest  of  Olivet,  since 
termed  the  Mount  of  Offence,  brought  the  lettering  boldly 
out ;  and  he  read,  and  was  filled  with  rage.  All  he  could 
do  was  to  wrench  the  board  from  its  nailing,  and  hurl  it 
into  the  ditch.  Then  he  sat  upon  the  step,  and  prayed  for 
the  New  King,  and  that  his  coming  might  be  hastened.  As 
his  blood  cooled,  insensibly  he  yielded  to  the  fatigue  of 
long  travel  in  the  summer  heat,  and  sank  down  lower,  and, 
at  last,  slept. 

About  that  time  two  women  came  down  the  street  from 
the  direction  of  the  Tower  of  Autonia,  approaching  the 
palace  of  the  Hurs.  They  advanced  stealthily,  with  timid 
steps,  pausing  often  to  listen.  At  the  corner  of  the  rugged 
pile,  one  said  to  the  other,  in  a  low  voice, 

-•<  This  is  it,  Tirzali !" 


418  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

And  Tirzah,  after  a  look,  caught  her  mother's  hand,  and 
leaned  upon  her  heavily,  sobbing,  but  silent. 

"  Let  us  go  on,  my  child,  because  " — the  mother  hesi 
tated  and  trembled ;  then,  with  an  effort  to  be  calm,  con 
tinued — "  because  when  morning  comes  they  will  put  us 
out  of  the  gate  of  the  city  to — return  no  more." 

Tirzah  sank  almost  to  the  stones. 

"  Ah,  yes  !"  she  said,  between  sobs  ;  "  I  forgot.  I  had 
the  feeling  of  going  home.  But  we  are  lepers,  and  have 
no  homes  ;  we  belong  to  the  dead  !" 

The  mother  stooped  and  raised  her  tenderly,  saying, 
"  We  have  nothing  to  fear.  Let  us  go  on." 

Indeed,  lifting  their  empty  hands,  they  could  have  run 
upon  a  legion  and  put  it  to  flight. 

And,  creeping  in  close  to  the  rough  wall,  they  glided  on, 
like  two  ghosts,  till  they  came  to  the  gate,  before  which 
they  also  paused.  Seeing  the  board,  they  stepped  upon 
the  stone  in  the  scarce  cold  tracks  of  Ben-Hur,  and  read 
the  inscription — "  This  is  the  Property  of  the  Emperor." 

Then  the  mother  clasped  her  hands,  and,  with  upraised 
eyes,  moaned  in  unutterable  anguish. 

"  What  now,  mother  ?     You  scare  me  !" 

And  the  answer  was,  presently,  "  Oh,  Tirzah,  the  poor 
are  dead  !  He  is  dead  !" 

"  Who,  mother  ?" 

"  Your  brother  !  They  took  everything  from  him — ev 
erything — even  this  house  !" 

"  Poor  !"  said  Tirzah,  vacantly. 

"  lie  will  never  be  able  to  help  us." 

"  And  then,  mother  ?" 

"  To-morrow — to-morrow,  my  child,  we  must  find  a  seat 
by  the  wayside,  and  beg  alms  as  the  lepers  do ;  beg,  or — " 

Tirzah  leaned  upon  her  again,  and  said,  whispering, 
"  Let  us— let  us  die  !" 

"  Xo  !"  the  mother  said,  firmly.  "  The  Lord  has  ap 
pointed  our  times,  and  we  are  believers  in  the  Lord.  We 
will  wait  on  him  even  in  this.  Come  away !" 

She  caught  Tirzah's  hand  as  she  spoke,  and  hastened  to 
the  west  corner  of  the  house,  keeping  close  to  the  wall.  No 
one  being  in  sight  there,  they  kept  on  to  the  next  corner, 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  419 

and  shrank  from  the  moonlight,  which  lay  exceedingly 
bright  over  the  whole  south  front,  and  along  a  part  of  the 
street.  The  mother's  will  was  strong.  Casting  one  look 
back  and  up  to  the  windows  on  the  west  side,  she  stepped 
out  into  the  light,  drawing  Tirzah  after  her ;  and  the  ex 
tent  of  their  affliction  was  then  to  be  seen — on  their  lips 
and  cheeks,  in  their  bleared  eyes,  in  their  cracked  hands ; 
especially  in  the  long,  snaky  locks,  stiff  with  loathsome 
ichor,  and,  like  their  eyebrows,  ghastly  white.  Nor  was 
it  possible  to  have  told  which  was  mother,  which  daughter ; 
both  alike  seemed  witch-like  old. 

"  Hist !"  said  the  mother.  "  There  is  some  one  lying 
upon  the  step — a  man.  Let  us  go  round  him." 

They  crossed  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  quickly, 
and,  in  the  shade  there,  moved  on  till  before  the  gate, 
where  they  stopped. 

"  He  is  asleep,  Tirzah  !" 

The  man  was  very  still. 

"  Stay  here,  and  I  will  try  the  gate." 

So  saying,  the  mother  stole  noiselessly  across,  and  ven 
tured  to  touch  the  wicket ;  she  never  knew  if  it  yielded, 
for  that  moment  the  man  sighed,  and,  turning  restlessly, 
shifted  the  handkerchief  on  his  head  in  such  manner  that 
the  face  was  left  upturned  and  fair  in  the  broad  moon 
light.  She  looked  down  at  it  and  started ;  then  looked 
again,  stooping  a  little,  and  arose  and  clasped  her  hands 
and  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven  in  mute  appeal.  An  instant 
so,  and  she  ran  back  to  Tirzah. 

"  As  the  Lord  liveth,  the  man  is  my  son — thy  brother !" 
she  said,  in  an  awe-inspiring  whisper. 

"  My  brother  ?— Judah  ?" 

The  mother  caught  her  hand  eagerly. 

"  Come !"  she  said,  in  the  same  enforced  whisper,  "  let 
us  look  at  him  together — once  more — only  once — then 
help  thou  thy  servants,  Lord !" 

They  crossed  the  street  hand  in  hand  ghostly-quick, 
ghostly-still.  When  their  shadows  fell  upon  him,  they 
stopped.  One  of  his  hands  was  lying  out  npon  the  step 
palm  up.  Tirzah  fell  upon  her  knees,  and  would  have 
kissed  it ;  but  the  mother  drew  her  back. 


420  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  Not  for  thy  life ;  not  for  thy  life  !  Unclean,  unclean  !" 
she  whispered. 

Tirzah  shrank  from  him,  as  if  he  were  the  leprous  one. 

Ben-IIur  was  handsome  as  the  manly  are.  His  cheeks 
and  forehead  were  swarthy  from  exposure  to  the  desert  sun 
and  air;  yet  under  the  light  mustache  the  lips  were  red,  and 
the  teeth  shone  white,  and  the  soft  beard  did  not  hide  the 
full  roundness  of  chin  and  throat.  How  beautiful  he  ap 
peared  to  the  mother's  eyes  !  How  mightily  she  yearned  to 
put  her  arms  about  him,  and  take  his  head  upon  her  bosom 
and  kiss  him,  as  had  been  her  wont  in  his  happy  child 
hood  !  Where  got  she  the  strength  to  resist  the  impulse  ! 
From  her  love,  O  reader  ! — her  mother-love,  which,  if  thou 
wilt  observe  well,  hath  this  unlikeness  to  any  other  love : 
tender  to  the  object,  it  can  be  infinitely  tyrannical  to  itself, 
and  thence  all  its  power  of  self-sacrifice.  Not  for-  restora 
tion  to  health  and  fortune,  not  for  any  blessing  of  life,  hot 
for  life  itself,  would  she  have  left  her  leprous  kiss  upon 
his  cheek !  Yet  touch  him  she  must ;  in  that  instant  of 
finding  him  she  must  renounce  him  forever !  How  bitter, 
bitter  hard  it  was,  let  some  other  mother  say  !  She  knelt 
down,  and,  crawling  to  his  feet,  touched  the  sole  of  one  of 
his  sandals  with  her  lips,  yellow  though  it  was  with  the 
dust  of  the  street — and  touched  it  again  and  again ;  and 
her  very  soul  was  in  the  kisses. 

He  stirred,  and  tossed  his  hand.  They  moved  back,  but 
heard  him  mutter  in  his  dream, 

"  Mother  !     Amrah  !     Where  is — 

He  fell  off  into  the  deep  sleep. 

Tirzah  stared  wistfully.  The  mother  put  her  face  in  the 
dust,  struggling  to  suppress  a  sob  so  deep  and  strong  it 
seemed  her  heart  was  bursting.  Almost  she  wished  he 
might  waken. 

He  had  asked  for  her ;  she  was  not  forgotten  ;  in  his 
sleep  he  was  thinking  of  her.  Was  it  not  enough  ? 

Presently  the  mother  beckoned  to  Tirzah,  and  they  arose, 
and  taking  one  more  look,  as  if  to  print  his  image  past 
fading,  hand  in  hand  they  recrossed  the  street.  Back  in 
the  shade  of  the  wall  there,  they  retired  and  knelt,  looking 
at  him,  waiting  for  him  to  wake — waiting  some  revelation, 


BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  421 

they  knew  not  what.  Nobody  has  yet  given  us  a  measure 
for  the  patience  of  a  love  like  theirs. 

By-and-by,  the  sleep  being  yet  upon  him,  another  woman 
appeared  at  the  corner  of  the  palace.  The  two  in  the  shade 
saw  her  plainly  in  the  light ;  a  small  figure,  much  bent, 
dark-skinned,  gray-haired,  dressed  neatly  in  servant's  garb, 
and  carrying  a  basket  full  of  vegetables, 

At  sight  of  the  man  upon  the  step  the  new-comer 
stopped ;  then,  as  if  decided,  she  walked  on — very  lightly 
as  she  drew  near  the  sleeper.  Passing  round  him,  she  went 
to  the  gate,  slid  the  wicket  latch  easily  to  one  side,  and  put 
her  hand  in  the  opening.  One  of  the  broad  boards  in  the 
left  valve  swung  ajar  without  noise.  She  put  the  basket 
through,  and  was  about  to  follow,  when,  yielding  to  curi 
osity,  she  lingered  to  have  one  look  at  the  stranger  whose 
face  was  below  her  in  open  view. 

The  spectators  across  the  street  heard  a  low  exclamation, 
and  saw  the  woman  rub  her  eyes  as  if  to  renew  their  power, 
bend  closer  down,  clasp  her  hands,  gaze  wildly  around,  look 
at  the  sleeper,  stoop  and  raise  the  outlying  hand,  and  kiss 
it  fondly — that  which  they  wished  so  mightily  to  do,  but 
dared  not. 

Awakened  by  the  action,  Bcn-IIur  instinctively  withdrew 
the  hand ;  as  he  did  so,  his  eyes  met  the  woman's. 

"  Am  rah  !  O  Amrah,  is  it  thou?"  he  said. 

The  good  heart  made  no  answer  in  words,  but  fell  upon 
his  neck  crying  for  joy. 

Gently  he  put  her  arms  away,  and,  lifting  the  dark  face 
wet  with  tears,  kissed  it,  his  joy  only  a  little  less  than 
hers.  Then  those  across  the  way  heard  him  say, 

"  Mother — Tirzah — O  Amrah,  tell  me  of  them  !  Speak, 
speak,  I  pray  thee  !" 

Amrah  only  cried  afresh. 

"  Thou  hast  seen  them,  Amrah.  Thou  knowest  where 
they  are ;  tell  me  they  are  at  home." 

Tirzah  moved,  but  the  mother,  divining  her  purpose, 
caught  her  and  whispered,  "  Do  not  go — not  for  life.  Un 
clean,  unclean  !" 

Her  love  was  in  tyrannical  mood.  Though  both  their 
hearts  broke,  he  should  not  become  what  they  were ;  and 
she  conquered. 


422  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

Meantime  Amrah,  so  entreated,  only  wept  the  more. 

"  Wert  thou  going  in?"  he  asked,  presently,  seeing  the 
board  swung  back.  "  Come,  then.  I  will  go  with  thee." 
He  arose  as  he  spoke.  "  The  Romans — be  the  curse  of 
the  Lord  upon  them ! — the  Romans  lied.  The  house  is 
mine.  Rise,  Amrah,  and  let  us  go  in." 

A  moment  and  they  were  gone,  leaving  the  two  in  the 
shade  to  behold  the  gate  staring  blankly  at  them — the  gate 
which  they  might  not  ever  enter  more.  They  nestled  to 
gether  in  the  dust. 

They  had  done  their  duty. 

Their  love  was  proven. 

Next  morning  they  were  found,  and  driven  out  the  city 
with  stones. 

"  Begone  !     Ye  are  of  the  dead  ;  go  to  the  dead  !" 

With  the  doom  ringing  in  their  ears,  they  went  forth. 


CHAPTER  V. 

NOWADAYS  travellers  in  the  Holy  Land  looking  for  the 
famous  place  with  the  beautiful  name,  the  King's  Garden, 
descend  the  bed  of  the  Cedron  or  the  curve  of  Gihon  and 
Ilinnom  as  far  as  the  old  well  En-rogel,  take  a  drink  of 
the  sweet  living  water,  and  stop,  having  reached  the  limit 
of  the  interesting  in  that  direction.  They  look  at  the  great 
stones  with  which  the  well  is  curbed,  ask  its  depth,  smile 
at  the  primitive  mode  of  drawing  the  purling  treasure,  and 
waste  some  pity  on  the  ragged  wretch  who  presides  over  it ; 
then,  facing  about,  they  are  enraptured  with  the  mounts 
Moriah  and  Zion,  both  of  which  slope  towards  them  from 
the  north,  one  terminating  in  Ophel,  the  other  in  what  used 
to  be  the  site  of  the  city  of  David.  In  the  background, 
up  far  in  the  sky,  the  garniture  of  the  sacred  places  is  vis 
ible  :  here  the  Haram,  with  its  graceful  dome  ;  yonder  the 
stalwart  remains  of  Hippicus,  defiant  even  in  ruins.  When 
that  view  has  been  enjoyed,  and  is  sufficiently  impressed 
upon  the  memory,  the  travellers  glance  at  the  Mount  of 
Offence  standing  in  rugged  stateliness  at  their  right  hand, 
and  then  at  the  Hill  of  Evil  Counsel  over  on  the  left,  in 


BEN-HUR  :   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  423 

•which,  if  they  be  well  up  in  Scriptural  history  and  in  the 
traditions  rabbinical  and  monkish,  they  will  find  a  certain 
interest  not  to  be  overcome  by  superstitious  horror. 

It  were  long  to  tell  all  the  points  of  interest  grouped 
around  that  hill ;  for  the  present  purpose,  enough  that  its 
feet  are  planted  in  the  veritable  orthodox  Hell  of  the 
moderns — the  Hell  of  brimstone  and  fire — in  the  old  no 
menclature  Gehenna  ;  and  that  now,  as  in  the  days  of  Christ, 
its  bluff  face  opposite  the  city  on  the  south  and  southeast 
is  seamed  and  pitted  with  tombs  which  have  been  im- 
memorially  the  dwelling-places  of  lepers,  not  singly,  but 
collectively.  There  they  set  up  their  government  and 
established  their  society ;  there  they  founded  a  city  and 
dwelt  by  themselves,  avoided  as  the  accursed  of  God. 

The  second  morning  after  the  incidents  of  the  preceding 
chapter,  Amrah  drew  near  the  well  En-rogel,  and  seated 
herself  upon  a  stone.  One  familiar  with  Jerusalem,  look 
ing  at  her,  would  have  said  she  was  the  favorite  servant  of 
some  well-to-do  family.  She  brought  with  her  a  water-jar 
and  a  basket,  the  contents  of  the  latter  covered  with  a  snow- 
white  napkin.  Placing  them  on  the  ground  at  her  side, 
sha  loosened  the  shawl  which  fell  from  her  head,  knit  her 
fingers  together  in  her  lap,  and  gazed  demurely  up  to  where 
the  hill  drops  steeply  down  into  Aceldama  and  the  Potter's 
Field. 

It  was  very  early,  and  she  Avas  the  first  to  arrive  at  the 
well.  Soon,  however,  a  man  came  bringing  a  rope  and  a 
leathern  bucket.  Saluting  the  little  dark-faced  woman,  he 
undid  the  rope,  fixed  it  to  the  bucket,  and  waited  custom 
ers.  Others  who  chose  to  do  so  might  draw  water  for  them 
selves  ;  he  was  a  professional  in  the  business,  and  would 
fill  the  largest  jar  the  stoutest  woman  could  carry  for  a 
yerah. 

Amrah  sat  still,  and  had  nothing  to  say.  Seeing  the  jar, 
the  man  asked  after  a  while  if  she  wished  it  filled  ;  she  an 
swered  him  civilly,  "  Not  now  ;"  whereupon  he  gave  her  no 
more  attention.  When  the  dawn  was  fairly  defined  over 
Olivet,  his  patrons  began  to  arrive,  and  he  had  all  he  could 
do  to  attend  to  them.  All  the  time  she  kept  her  seat, 
looking  intently  up  at  the  hill. 


424  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

The  sun  made  its  appearance,  yet  she  sat  watching  and 
waiting  ;  and  while  she  thus  waits  let  us  see  what  her  pur 
pose  is. 

Her  custom  had  been  to  go  to  market  after  nightfall. 
Stealing  out  unobserved,  she  would  seek  the  shops  in  the 
Tyropoeon,  or  those  over  by  the  Fish  Gate  in  the  east,  make 
her  purchases  of  meat  and  vegetables,  and  return  and  shut 
herself  up  again. 

The  pleasure  she  derived  from  the  presence  of  Ben-IIur 
in  the  old  house  once  more  may  be  imagined.  She  had 
nothing  to  tell  him  of  her  mistress  or  Tirzah — nothing. 
He  would  have  had  her  move  to  a  place  not  so  lonesome ; 
she  refused.  She  would  have  had  him  take  his  own  room 
again,  which  was  just  as  he  had  left  it ;  but  the  danger  of 
discovery  was  too  great,  and  he  wished  above  all  things  to 
avoid  inquiry.  He  would  come  and  see  her  often  as  pos 
sible.  Coming  in  the  night,  he  would  also  go  away  in  the 
night.  She  was  compelled  to  be  satisfied,  and  at  once  oc 
cupied  herself  contriving  ways  to  make  him  happy.  That 
he  was  a  man  now  did  not  occur  to  her ;  nor  did  it  enter 
her  mind  that  he  might  have  put  by  or  lost  his  boyish 
tastes ;  to  please  him,  she  thought  to  go  on  her  old  round 
of  services.  lie  used  to  be  fond  of  confections ;  she  re 
membered  the  things  in  that  line  which  delighted  him 
most,  and  resolved  to  make  them,  and  have  a  supply  al 
ways  ready  when  he  came.  Could  anything  be  happier? 
So  next  night,  earlier  than  usual,  she  stole  out  with  her 
basket,  and  went  over  to  the  Fish  Gate  Market.  Wander 
ing  about,  seeking  the  best  honey,  she  chanced  to  hear  a 
man  telling  a  story. 

What  the  story  was  the  reader  can  arrive  at  with  suffi 
cient  certainty  when  told  that  the  narrator  was  one  of  the 
men  who  had  held  torches  for  the  commandant  of  the 
Tower  of  Antonia  when,  down  in  cell  VL,  the  Hurs  were 
found.  The  particulars  of  the  finding  were  all  told,  and 
she  heard  them,  with,  the  names  of  the  prisoners,  and  the 
widow's  account  of  herself. 

The  feelings  with  which  Amrah  listened  to  the  recital 
were  such  as  became  the  devoted  creature  she  was.  She 
made  her  purchases,  and  returned  home  in  a  dream.  What 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  425 

a  happiness  she  had  in  store  for  her  boy !  She  had  found 
his  mother ! 

She  put  the  basket  away,  now  laughing,  now  crying. 
Suddenly  she  stopped  and  thought.  It  would  kill  him  to 
be  told  that  his  mother  and  Tirzah  were  lepers.  He  would 
go  through  the  awful  city  over  on  the  Hill  of  Evil  Counsel 
— into  each  infected  tomb  he  would  go  without  rest,  ask 
ing  for  them,  and  the  disease  would  catch  him,  and  their 
fate  would  be  his.  She  wrung  her  hands.  What  should 
she  do? 

Like  many  a  one  before  her,  and  many  a  one  since,  she 
derived  inspiration,  if  not  wisdom,  from  her  affection,  and 
came  to  a  singular  conclusion. 

The  lepers,  she  knew,  were  accustomed  of  mornings  to 
corne  down  from  their  sepulchral  abodes  in  the  hill,  and 
take  a  supply  of  water  for  the  day  from  the  well  En-Rogel. 
Bringing  their  jars,  they  would  set  them  on  the  ground  and 
wait,  standing  af*ar  until  they  were  filled.  To  that  the  mis 
tress  and  Tirzah  must  come ;  for  the  law  was  inexorable, 
and  admitted  no  distinction.  A  rich  leper  was  no  better 
than  a  poor  one. 

So  Amrah  decided  not  to  speak  to  Ben-IIur  of  the  story 
she  had  heard,  but  go  alone  to  the  well  and  wait.  Hunger 
and  thirst  would  drive  the  unfortunates  thither,  and  she 
believed  she  could  recognize  them  at  sight ;  if  not,  they 
might  recognize  her. 

Meantime  Ben-IIur  came,  and  they  talked  much.  To 
morrow  Malluch  would  arrive  ;  then  the  search  should  be 
immediately  begun.  He  was  impatient  to  be  about  it.  To 
amuse  himself  he  would  visit  the  sacred  places  in  the  vicin 
ity.  The  secret,  we  may  be  sure,  weighed  heavily  on  the 
woman,  but  she  held  her  peace. 

When  he  Avas  gone  she  busied  herself  in  the  preparation 
of  things  good  to  eat,  applying  her  utmost  skill  to  the 
work.  At  the  approach  of  day,  as  signalled  by  the  stars, 
she  filled  the  basket,  selected  a  jar,  and  took  the  road  to 
En-Rogel,  going  out  by  the  Fish  Gate  which  was  earliest 
open,  and  arriving  as  we  have  seen. 

Shortly  after  sunrise,  when  business  at  the  well  was  most 
pressing,  and  the  drawer  of  water  most  hurried ;  when,  in 


426  BEN-IIUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

fact,  half  a  dozen  buckets  were  in  use  at  the  same  time, 
everybody  making  haste  to  get  away  before  the  cool  of  the 
morning  melted  into -the  heat  of  the  day,  the  tenantry  of 
the  hill  began  to  appear  and  move  about  the  doors  of  their 
tombs.  Somewhat  later  they  were  discernible  in  groups, 
of  which  not  a  few  were  children  so  young  that  they  sug 
gested  the  holiest  relation.  Numbers  came  momentarily 
around  the  turn  of  the  bluff — women  with  jars  upon  their 
shoulders,  old  and  very  feeble  men  hobbling  along  on  staffs 
and  crutches.  Some  leaned  upon  the  shoulders  of  others  ; 
a  few — the  utterly  helpless — lay,  like  heaps  of  rags,  upon 
litters.  Even  that  community  of  superlative  sorrow  had  its 
love-light  to  make  life  endurable  and  attractive.  Distance 
softened  without  entirely  veiling  the  misery  of  the  outcasts. 

From  her  seat  by  the  well  Amrah  kept  watch  upon  the 
spectral  groups.  She  scarcely  moved.  More  than  once 
she  imagined  she  saw  those  she  sought.  That  they  were 
there  upon  the  hill  she  had  no  doubt ;  that  they  must  come 
down  and  near  she  knew ;  when  the  people  at  the  well 
were  all  served  they  would  come. 

Now,  quite  at  the  base  of  the  bluff  there  was  a  tomb 
which  had  more  than  once  attracted  Amrah  by  its  wide 
gaping.  A  stone  of  large  dimensions  stood  near  its  mouth. 
The  sun  looked  into  it  through  the  hottest  hours  of  the 
day,  and  altogether  it  seemed  uninhabitable  by  anything 
living,  unless,  perchance,  by  some  wild  dogs  returning  from 
scavenger  duty  down  in  Gehenna.  Thence,  however,  and 
greatly  to  her  surprise,  the  patient  Egyptian  beheld  two 
women  come,  one  half  supporting,  half  leading,  the  other. 
They  were  both  white-haired  ;  both  looked  old ;  but  their 
garments  were  not  rent,  and  they  gazed  about  them  as  if 
the  locality  were  new.  The  witness  below  thought  she  even 
saw  them  shrink  terrified  at  the  spectacle  offered  by  the 
hideous  assemblage  of  which  they  found  themselves  part. 
Slight  reasons,  certainly,  to  make  her  heart  beat  faster,  and 
draw  her  attention  to  them  exclusively ;  but  so  they  did. 

The  two  remained  by  the  stone  .awhile  ;  then  they  moved 
slowly,  painfully,  and  with  much  fear  towards  the  well, 
whereat  several  voices  were  raised  to  stop  them  ;  yet  they 
kept  on.  The  drawer  of  water  picked  up  some  pebbles, 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  427 

and  made  ready  to  drive  them  back.  The  company  cursed 
them.  The  greater  company  on  the  hill  shouted  shrilly, 
"  Unclean,  unclean  !" 

"  Surely,"  thought  Amrah  of  the  two,  as  they  kept  com 
ing — "  surely,  they  are  strangers  to  the  usage  of  lepers." 

She  arose,  and  went  to  meet  them,  taking  the  basket  and 
jar.  The  alarm  at  the  well  immediately  subsided. 

"  What  a  fool,"  said  one,  laughing,  "  what  a  fool  to  give 
good  bread  to  the  dead  in  that  way !" 

"  And  to  think  of  her  coming  so  far  !"  said  another.  "  I 
would  at  least  make  them  meet  me  at  the  gate." 

Amrah,  with  better  impulse,  proceeded.  If  she  should 
be  mistaken  !  Her  heart  arose  into  her  throat.  And  the 
farther  she  went  the  more  doubtful  and  confused  she  be 
came.  Four  or  five  yards  from  where  they  stood  waiting 
for  her  she  stopped. 

That  the  mistress  she  loved !  whose  hand  she  had  so 
often  kissed  in  gratitude !  whose  image  of  matronly  love 
liness  she  had  treasured  in  memory  so  faithfully  !  And 
that  the  Tirzah  she  had  nursed  through  babyhood !  whose 
pains  she  had  soothed,  whose  sports  she  had  shared !  that 
the  smiling,  sweet-faced,  songful  Tirzah,  the  light  of  the 
great  house,  the  promised  blessing  of  her  old  age !  Her 
mistress,  her  darling — they  ?  The  soul  of  the  woman  sick 
ened  at  the  sight. 

"  These  are  old  women,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  I  never 
saw  them  before.  I  will  go  back." 

She  turned  away. 

"  Amrah,"  said  one  of  the  lepers. 

The  Egyptian  dropped  the  jar,  and  looked  back,  trem 
bling. 

"  Who  called  me  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Amrah." 

The  servant's  wondering  eyes  settled  upon  the  speaker's 
face. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  she  cried. 

"  We  are  they  you  are  seeking." 

Amrah  fell  upon  her  knees. 

"  O  my  mistress,  my  mistress !  As  I  have  made  your 
God  my  God,  be  he  praised  that  he  has  led  me  to  you !" 


428  BEN-IIUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

And  upon  her  knees  the  poor  overwhelmed  creature  be 
gan  moving  forward. 

"  Stay,  Amrah  !    Come  not  nearer.    Unclean,  unclean  !" 

The  words  sufficed.  Amrah  fell  upon  her  face,  sobbing 
so  loud  the  people  at  the  well  heard  her.  Suddenly  she 
arose  upon  her  knees  again. 

"  O  my  mistress,  where  is  Tirzah  ?" 

"  Here  I  am,  Amrah,  here  !  Will  you  not  bring  me  a 
little  water  ?" 

The  habit  of  the  servant  renewed  itself.  Putting  back 
the  coarse  hair  fallen  over  her  face,  Amrah  arose  and  went 
to  the  basket  and  uncovered  it. 

"  See,"  she  said,  "  here  are  bread  and  meat." 

She  would  have  spread  the  napkin  upon  the  ground,  but 
the  mistress  spoke  again, 

"  Do  not  so,  Amrah.  Those  yonder  may  stone  you,  and 
refuse  us  drink.  Leave  the  basket  with  me.  Take  up  the 
jar  and  fill  it,  and  bring  it  here.  We  will  carry  them  to 
the  tomb  with  us.  For  this  day  you  will  then  have  ren 
dered  all  the  service  that  is  lawful.  Haste,  Amrah." 

The  people  under  whose  eyes  all  this  had  passed  made 
way  for  the  servant,  and  even  helped  her  fill  the  jar,  so 
piteous  was  the  grief  her  countenance  showed. 

"  Who  are  they  ?"  a  woman  asked. 

Amrah  meekly  answered,  "  They  used  to  be  good  to 
me." 

Raising  the  jar  upon  her  shoulder,  she  hurried  back.  In 
forgetfulness,  she  would  have  gone  to  them,  but  the  cry 
"  Unclean,  unclean  !  Beware  !"  arrested  her.  Placing  the 
water  by  the  basket,  she  stepped  back,  and  stood  off  a  little 
way. 

"  Thank  you,  Amrah,"  said  the  mistress,  taking  the  ar 
ticles  into  possession.  "  This  is  very  good  of  you." 

"  Is  there  nothing  more  I  can  do  ?"  asked  Amrah. 

The  mother's  hand  was  upon  the  jar,  and  she  was  fe 
vered  with  thirst ;  yet  she  paused,  and,  rising,  said  firmly, 
"  Yes,  I  know  that  Judah  has  come  home.  I  saw  him  at 
the  gate  night  before  last  asleep  on  the  step.  I  saw  you 
wake  him." 

Amrah  clasped  her  hands. 


BEN-HUB:   A  TALE   OF   THE  CHKIST.  429 

"  O  my  mistress  !     You  saw  it,  and  did  not  come  !" 

"  That  would  have  been  to  kill  him.  I  can  never  take 
him  in  my  arms  again.  I  can  never  kiss  him  more.  O 
Amrali,  Amrah,  you  love  him,  I  know !" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  true  heart,  bursting  into  tears  again, 
and  kneeling.  "  I  would  die  for  him." 

"  Prove  to  me  what  you  say,  Amrah." 

"  I  am  ready." 

"  Then  you  shall  not  tell  him  where  we  are  or  that  you 
have  seen  us — only  that,  Amrah." 

"But  he  is  looking  for  you.  He  has  come  from  afar  to 
find  you." 

u  He  must  not  find  us.  He  shall  not  become  what  we 
are.  Hear,  Amrah.  You  shall  serve  us  as  you  have  this 
day.  You  shall  bring  us  the  little  we  need — not  long  now 
— not  long.  You  shall  come  every  morning  and  evening 
thus,  and — and  " — the  voice  trembled,  the  strong  will  al 
most  broke  down — "  and  you  shall  tell  us  of  him,  Amrah  ; 
but  to  him  you  shall  say  nothing  of  us.  Hear  you?" 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  so  hard  to  hear  him  speak  of  you,  and 
see  him  going  about  looking  for  you — to  see  all  his  love, 
and  not  tell  him  so  much  as  that  you  are  alive  1" 

"  Can  you  tell  him  we  are  well,  Amrah  ?" 

The  servant  bowed  her  head  in  her  arms. 

"  No,"  the  mistress  continued ;  "  wherefore  be  silent 
altogether.  Go  now,  and  come  this  evening.  We  will 
look  for  you.  Till  then,  farewell." 

"  The  burden  will  be  heavy,  O  my  mistress,  and  hard  to 
bear,"  said  Amrah,  falling  upon  her  face. 

"  How  much  harder  wyould  it  be  to  see  him  as  we  are," 
the  mother  answered  as  she  gave  the  basket  to  Tirzah. 
"  Come  again  this  evening,"  she  repeated ;  taking  up  the 
water,  and  starting  for  the  tomb. 

Amrah  waiting  kneeling  until  they  had  disappeared ;  then 
she  took  the  road  sorrowfully  home. 

In  the  evening  she  returned ;  and  thereafter  it  became 
her  custom  to  serve  them  in  the  morning  and  evening,  so 
that  they  wanted  for  nothing  needful.  The  tomb,  though 
ever  so  stony  and  desolate,  was  less  cheerless  than  the  cell 
in  the  Tower  had  been.  Daylight  gilded  its  door,  and  it 


430  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

was  in  the  beautiful  world.     Then,  one  can  wait  death  with 
so  much  more  faith  out  under  the  open  sky. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  morning  of  the  first  day  of  the  seventh  month — 
Tishri  in  the  Hebrew,  October  in  English — Ben-IIur  arose 
from  his  couch  in  the  khan  ill  satisfied  with  the  whole 
world. 

Little  time  had  been  lost  in  consultation  upon  the  ar 
rival  of  Malluch.  The  latter  began  the  search  at  the  Tower 
of  Antonia,  and  began  it  boldly,  by  a  direct  inquiry  of  the 
tribune  commanding.  He  gave  the  officer  a  history  of  the 
Hurs,  and  all  the  particulars  of  the  accident  to  Gratus,  de 
scribing  the  affair  as  wholly  without  criminality.  The  ob- 
jact  of  the  quest  now,  he  said,  was  if  any  of  the  unhappy 
family  were  discovered  alive  to  carry  a  petition  to  the  feet 
of  Caesar,  praying  restitution  of  the  estate  and  return  to 
their  civil  rights.  Such  a  petition,  he  had  no  doubt,  would 
result  in  an  investigation  by  the  imperial  order,  a  proceed 
ing  of  which  the  friends  of  the  family  had  no  fear. 

In  reply  the  tribune  stated  circumstantially  the  discovery 
of  the  women  in  the  Tower,  and  permitted  a  reading  of  the 
memorandum  he  had  taken  of  their  account  of  themselves ; 
when  leave  to  copy  it  was  prayed,  he  even  permitted  that. 

Malluch  thereupon  hurried  to  Ben-Hur. 

It  were  useless  to  attempt  description  of  the  effect  the 
terrible  story  had  upon  the  young  man.  The  pain  was  not 
relieved  by  tears  or  passionate  outcries  ;  it  was  too  deep  for 
any  expression.  He  sat  still  a  long  time,  with  pallid  face 
and  laboring  heart.  Now  and  then,  as  if  to  show  the 
thoughts  which  were  most  poignant,  he  muttered, 

"  Lepers,  lepers  !  They — my  mother  and  Tirzah — they 
lepers  !  How  long,  how  long,  O  Lord  !" 

One  moment  he  was  torn  by  a  virtuous  rage  of  sorrow, 
next  by  a  longing  for  vengeance  which,  it  must  be  admitted, 
was  scarcely  less  virtuous. 

At  length  he  arose. 

"  I  must  look  for  them.     They  may  be  dying." 


BEN-HUB:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  431 

"  Where  will  you  look  ?"  asked  Malluch. 

"  There  is  but  one  place  for  them  to  go." 

Malluch  interposed,  and  finally  prevailed  so  far  as  to  have 
the  management  of  the  further  attempt  intrusted  to  him. 
Together  they  went  to  the  gate  over  on  the  side  opposite 
the  Hill  of  Evil  Counsel,  immemorially  the  lepers'  begging- 
ground.  There  they  stayed  all  day,  giving  alms,  asking  for 
the  two  women,  and  offering  rich  rewards  for  their  discov 
ery.  So  they  did  in  repetition  day  after  day  through  the 
remainder  of  the  fifth  month,  and  all  the  sixth.  There  was 
diligent  scouring  of  the  dread  city  on  the  hill  by  lepers  to 
whom  the  rewards  offered  were  mighty  incentives,  for  they 
were  only  dead  in  law.  Over  and  over  again  the  gaping 
tomb  down  by  the  well  was  invaded,  and  its  tenants  sub 
jected  to  inquiry  ;  but  they  kept  their  secret  fast.  The  re 
sult  was  failure.  And  now,  the  morning  of  the  first  day  of 
the  seventh  month,  the  extent  of  the  additional  information 
gained  was  that  not  long  before  two  leprous  women  had 
been  stoned  from  the  Fish  Gate  by  the  authorities.  A  lit 
tle  pressing  of  the  clew,  together  with  some  shrewd  com 
parison  of  dates,  led  to  the  sad  assurance  that  the  suffer 
ers  were  the  Hurs,  and  left  the  old  question  darker  than 
ever.  Where  were  they  ?  And  what  had  become  of 
them  ? 

"  It  was  not  enough  that  my  people  should  be  made  lep 
ers,"  said  the  son,  over  and  over  again,  with  what  intensity 
of  bitterness  the  reader  may  imagine ;  "  that  was  not 
enough.  Oh,  no  I  They  must  be  stoned  from  their  native 
city  !  My  mother  is  dead  !  she  has  wandered  to  the  wilder 
ness  !  she  is  dead  !  Tirzah  is  dead  !  I  alone  am  left.  And 
for  what  ?  How  long,  O  God,  thou  Lord  God  of  my  fa 
thers,  how  long  shall  this  Home  endure  ?" 

Angry,  hopeless,  vengeful,  he  entered  the  court  of  the 
khan,  and  found  it  crowded  with  people  come  in  during 
the  night.  While  he  ate  his  breakfast,  he  listened  to  some 
of  them.  To  one  party  he  was  specially  attracted.  They 
were  mostly  young,  stout,  active,  hardy  men,  in  manner  and 
speech  provincial.  In  their  look,  the  certain  indefinable  air, 
the  pose  of  the  head,  glance  of  the  eye,  there  was  a  spirit 
which  did  not,  as  a  rule,  belong  to  the  outward  seeming  of 


432  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

the  lower  orders  of  Jerusalem  ;  the  spirit  thought  by  some 
to  be  a  peculiarity  of  life  in  mountainous  districts,  but 
which  may  be  more  surely  traced  to  a  life  of  healthful  free 
dom.  In  a  short  time  he  ascertained  they  were  Galileans, 
in  the  city  for  various  purposes,  but  chiefly  to  take  part  in 
the  Feast  of  Trumpets,  set  for  that  day.  They  became  to 
him  at  once  objects  of  interest,  as  hailing  from  the  region 
in  which  he  hoped  to  find  readiest  support  in  the  work  he 
was  shortly  to  set  about. 

While  observing  them,  his  mind  running  ahead  in 
thought  of  achievements  possible  to  a  legion  of  such  spir 
its  disciplined  after  the  severe  Roman  style,  a  man  came 
into  the  court,  his  face  much  flushed,  his  eyes  bright  with 
excitement. 

"  Why  are  you  here  ?"  he  said  to  the  Galileans.  "  The 
rabbis  and  elders  are  going  from  the  Temple  to  see  Pilate. 
Come,  make  haste,  and  let  us  go  with  them." 

They  surrounded  him  in  a  moment. 

"  To  see  Pilate  !     For  what  ?" 

"  They  have  discovered  a  conspiracy.  Pilate's  new  aque 
duct  is  to  be  paid  for  with  money  of  the  Temple." 

"  What,  with  the  sacred  treasure  ?" 

They  repeated  the  question  to  each  other  with  flashing 
eyes. 

"  It  is  Corban — money  of  God.  Let  him  touch  a  shekel 
of  it  if  he  dare  !" 

"  Come,"  cried  the  messenger.  "  The  procession  is  by 
this  time  across  the  bridge.  The  whole  city  is  pouring  af 
ter.  We  may  be  needed.  Make  haste  !" 

As  if  the  thought  and  the  act  were  one,  there  was  quick 
putting -away  of  useless  garments,  and  the  party  stood 
forth  bareheaded,  and  in  the  short  sleeveless  under-tunics 
they  were  used  to  wearing  as  reapers  in  the  field  and  boat 
men  on  the  lake — the  garb  in  which  they  climbed  the  hills 
following  the  herds,  and  plucked  the  ripened  vintage,  care 
less  of  the  sun.  Lingering  only  to  tighten  their  girdles, 
they  said,  "  We  are  ready." 

Then  Ben-Hur  spoke  to  them. 

"  Men  of  Galilee,"  he  said,  "  I  am  a  son  of  Judah. 
Will  you  take  me  in  your  company  ?" 


BEN-HUK:    A  TALE   OF  TIIE   CHRIST.  433 

"  We  may  have  to  fight,"  they  replied. 

"  Oh,  then,  I  will  not  be  first  to  run  away  !" 

They  took  the  retort  in  good-humor,  and  the  messenger 
said,  "  You  seem  stout  enough.  Come  along." 

Ben-Hur  put  off  his  outer  garments. 

"  You  think  there  may  be  fighting?"  he  asked,  quietly,  as 
he  tightened  his  girdle. 

"Yes." 

"  With  whom  ?" 

"  The  guard." 

"  Legionaries  ?" 

"  Whorp  else  can  a  Roman  trust?" 

"  What  have  you  to  fight  with  ?" 

They  looked  at  him  silently. 

"  Well,"  he  continued,  "  we  will  have  to  do  the  best  we 
can  ;  but  had  we  not  better  choose  a  leader  ?  The  legion 
aries  always  have  one,  and  so  are  able  to  act  with  one 
mind." 

The  Galileans  stared  more  curiously,  as  if  the  idea  were 
new  to  them. 

"  Let  us  at  least  agree  to  stay  together,"  he  said.  "  Now 
I  am  ready,  if  you  are." 

"  Yes,  let  us  go." 

The  khan,  it  should  not  be  forgotten,  was  in  Bezetha, 
the  new  town ;  and  to  get  to  the  Pra3torium,  as  the  Ro 
mans  resonantly  styled  the  palace  of  Herod  on  Mount  Zion, 
the  party  had  to  cross  the  lowlands  north  and  west  of  the 
Temple.  By  streets — if  they  may  be  so  called — trending 
north  and  south,  with  intersections  hardly  up  to  the  dig 
nity  of  alleys,  they  passed  rapidly  round  the  Akra  district 
to  the  Tower  of  Mariamne,  from  which  the  way  was  short 
to  the  grand  gate  of  the  walled  heights.  In  going,  they 
overtook,  or  were  overtaken  by,  people  like  themselves 
stirred  to  wrath  by  news  of  the  proposed  desecration. 
When,  at  length,  they  reached  the  gate  of  the  Prretorium, 
the  procession  of  elders  and  rabbis  had  passed  in  with  a 
great  following,  leaving  a  greater  crowd  clamoring  out 
side. 

A  centurion  kept  the  entrance  with  a  guard  drawn  up 
full  armed  under  the  beautiful  marble  battlements.     The 
28 


434  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

sun  struck  the  soldiers  fervidly  on  helm  and  shield ;  but 
they  kept  their  ranks  indifferent  alike  to  its  dazzle  and  to 
the  mouthings  of  the  rabble.  Through  the  open  bronze 
gates  a  current  of  citizens  poured  in,  while  a  much  lesser 
one  poured  out. 

"  What  is  going  on  ?"  one  of  the  Galileans  asked  an  out- 
comer. 

"  Nothing,"  was  the  reply.  "  The  rabbis  are  before  the 
door  of  the  palace  asking  to  see  Pilate.  He  has  refused  to 
come  out.  They  have  sent  one  to  tell  him  they  will  not 
go  away  till  he  has  heard  them.  They  are  waiting." 

"  Let  us  go  in,"  said  Ben-Hur,  in  his  quiet  way,  seeing 
what  his  companions  probably  did  not,  that  there  was  not 
only  a  disagreement  between  the  suitors  and  the  governor, 
but  an  issue  joined,  and  a  serious  question  as  to  who  should 
have  his  will. 

Inside  the  gate  there  was  a  row  of  trees  in  leaf,  with 
seats  under  them.  The  people,  whether  going  or  coming, 
carefully  avoided  the  shade  cast  gratefully  upon  the  white, 
clean-swept  pavement ;  for,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  a  rab 
binical  ordinance,  alleged  to  have  been  derived  from  the 
law,  permitted  no  green  thing  to  be  grown  within  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem.  Even  the  wise  king,  it  was  said,  want 
ing  a  garden  for  his  Egyptian  bride,  was  constrained  to 
foujid  it  down  in  the  meeting-place  of  the  valleys  above 
En-rogel. 

Through  the  tree-tops  shone  the  outer  fronts  of  the  pal 
ace.  Turning  to  the  right,  the  party  proceeded  a  short  dis 
tance  to  a  spacious  square,  on  the  west  side  of  which  stood 
the  residence  of  the  governor.  An  excited  multitude 
rilled  the  square.  Every  face  was  directed  towards  a  por 
tico  built  over  a  broad  doorway  which  was  closed.  Under 
the  portico  there  was  another  array  of  legionaries. 

The  throng  was  so  close  the  friends  could  not  well 
have  advanced  if  such  had  been  their  desire ;  they  re 
mained  therefore  in  the  rear,  observers  of  what  was  going 
on.  About  the  portico  they  could  see  the  high  turbans  of 
the  rabbis,  whose  impatience  communicated  at  times  to 
the  mass  behind  them ;  a  cry  was  frequent  to  the  effect 
"  Pilate,  if  thou  be  a  governor,  come  forth,  come  forth !" 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  TEE  CHRIST.  435 

Once  a  man  coming  out  pushed  through  the  crowd,  his 
face  red  with  anger. 

"  Israel  is  of  no  account  here,"  he  said,  in  a  loud  voice. 
"•  On  this  holy  ground  we  are  no  better  than  dogs  of  Rome." 

"  Will  he  not  come  out,  think  you  ?" 

"  Come  ?     Has  he  not  thrice  refused  ?" 

"  What  will  the  rabbis  do  ?" 

"  As  at  Caesarea — carnp  here  till  he  gives  them  ear." 

"  He  will  not  dare  touch  the  treasure,  will  he  ?"  asked 
one  of  the  Galileans. 

"  Who  can  say  ?  Did  not  a  Roman  profane  the  Holy  of 
Holies  ?  Is  there  anything  sacred  from  Romans  ?" 

An  hour  passed,  and  though  Pilate  deigned  them  no  an 
swer,  the  rabbis  and  crowd  remained.  Noon  came,  bring 
ing  a  shower  from  the  west,  but  no  change  in  the  situa 
tion,  except  that  the  multitude  was  larger  and  much  noisier, 
and  the  feeling  more  decidedly  angry.  The  shouting  was 
almost  continuous,  Come  forth,  come  forth  !  The  cry  was 
sometimes  with  disrespectful  variations.  Meanwhile  Ben- 
Hur  held  his  Galilean  friends  together.  He  judged  the 
pride  of  the  Roman  would  eventually  get  the  better  of  his 
discretion,  and  that  the  end  could  not  be  far  off.  Pilate 
was  but  waiting  for  the  people  to  furnish  him  an  excuse 
for  resort  to  violence. 

And  at  last  the  end  came.  In  the  midst  of  the  as 
semblage  there  was  heard  the  sound  of  blows,  succeeded 
instantly  by  yells  of  pain  and  rage,  and  a  most  furious 
commotion.  The  venerable  men  in  front  of  the  portico 
faced  about  aghast.  The  common  people  in  the  rear  at 
first  pushed  forward ;  in  the  centre,  the  effort  was  to  get 
out;  and  for  a  short  time  the  pressure  of  opposing  forces 
was  terrible.  A  thousand  voices  made  inquiry,  raised  all 
at  once  ;  as  no  one  had  time  to  answer,  the  surprise  speed 
ily  became  a  panic. 

Ben-Hur  kept  his  senses. 

"  You  cannot  see  ?"  he  said  to  one  of  the  Galileans. 

"  No." 

"  I  will  raise  you  up." 

He  caught  the  man  about  the  middle,  and  lifted  him 
bodily. 


436  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  What  is  it  ?" 

"  I  see  now,"  said  the  man.  "  There  are  some  armed 
with  clubs,  and  they  are  beating  the  people.  They  are 
dressed  like  Jews." 

"  Who  are  they  ?" 

"  Romans,  as  the  Lord  liveth !  Romans  in  disguise. 
Their  clubs  fly  like  flails !  There,  I  saw  a  rabbi  struck 
down — an  old  man  !  They  spare  nobody  !" 

Ben-Hur  let  the  man  down. 

"  Men  of  Galilee,"  he  said,  "  it  is  a  trick  of  Pilate's. 
Now,  will  you  do  what  I  say,  we  will  get  even  with  the 
club-men." 

The  Galilean  spirit  arose. 

"  Yes,  yes !"  they  answered. 

"  Let  us  go  back  to  the  trees  by  the  gate,  and  we  may 
find  the  planting  of  Herod,  though  unlawful,  has  some  good 
in  it  after  all.  Come  !" 

They  ran  back  all  of  them  fast  as  they  could  ;  and,  by 
throwing  their  united  weight  upon  the  limbs,  tore  them 
from  the  trunks.  In  a  brief  time  they,  too,  were  armed. 
Returning,  at  the  corner  of  the  square  they  met  the  crowd 
rushing  madly  for  the  gate.  Behind,  the  clamor  continued 
— a  medley  of  shrieks,  groans,  and  execrations. 

"  To  the  wall !"  Ben-Hur  shouted.  "  To  the  wall ! — and 
let  the  herd  go  by  !" 

So,  clinging  to  the  masonry  at  their  right  hand,  they  es 
caped  the  might  of  the  rush,  and  little  by  little  made  head 
way  until,  at  last,  the  square  was  reached. 

"  Keep  together  now,  and  follow  me  !" 

By  this  time  Ben-Hur's  leadership  was  perfect ;  and  as 
he  pushed  into  the  seething  mob  his  party  closed  after  him 
in  a  body.  And  when  the  Romans,  clubbing  the  people 
and  making  merry  as  they  struck  them  down,  came  hand 
to  hand  with  the  Galileans,  lithe  of  limb,  eager  for  the  fray, 
and  equally  armed,  they  were  in  turn  surprised.  Then  the 
shouting  was  close  and  fierce  ;  the  crash  of  sticks  rapid 
and  deadly ;  the  advance  furious  as  hate  could  make  it. 
No  one  performed  his  part  as  well  as  Ben-Hur,  whose 
training  served  him  admirably ;  for,  not  merely  he  knew 
to  strike  and  guard  ;  his  long  arm,  perfect  action,  and  in- 


BEN-IIUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  437 

comparable  strength  helped  him,  also,  to  success  in  every 
encounter.  He  was  at  the  same  time  fighting-man  and 
leader.  The  club  he  wielded  was  of  goodly  length  and 
weighty,  so  he  had  need  to  strike  a  man  but  once.  He 
seemed,  moreover,  to  have  eyes  for  each  combat  of  his 
friends,  and  the  faculty  of  being  at  the  right  moment  ex 
actly  where  he  was  most  needed.  In  his  fighting  cry  there 
were  inspiration  for  his  party  and  alarm  for  his  enemies. 
Thus  surprised  and  equally  matched,  the  Romans  at  first 
retired,  but  finally  turned  their  backs  and  fled  to  the  por 
tico.  The  impetuous  Galileans  would  have  pursued  them 
to  the  steps,  but  Ben-IIur  wisely  restrained  them. 

"  Stay,  my  men  !"  he  said.  "  The  centurion  yonder  is 
coming  with  the  guard.  They  have  swords  and  shields ; 
we  cannot  fight  them.  We  have  done  well ;  let  us  get 
back  and  out  of  the  gate  while  we  may." 

They  obeyed  him,  though  slowly  ;  for  they  had  frequent 
ly  to  step  over  their  countrymen  lying  where  they  had  been 
felled ;  some  writhing  and  groaning,  some  praying  help, 
others  mute  as  the  dead.  But  the  fallen  were  not  all  Jews. 
In  that  there  was  consolation. 

The  centurion  shouted  to  them  as  they  went  off ;  Ben- 
IIur  laughed  at  him,  and  replied  in  his  own  tongue,  "  If  we 
are  dogs  of  Israel,  you  are  jackals  of  Rome.  Remain  here, 
and  we  will  come  again." 

The  Galileans  cheered,  and  laughing  went  on. 

Outside  the  gate  there  was  a  multitude  the  like  of  which 
Ben-IIur  had  never  seen,  not  even  in  the  circus  at  Antioch. 
The  house-tops,  the  streets,  the  slope  of  the  hill,  appeared 
densely  covered  with  people  wailing  and  praying.  The 
air  was  filled  with  their  cries  and  imprecations. 

The  party  were  permitted  to  pass  without  challenge  by 
the  outer  guard.  But  hardly  were  they  out  before  the 
centurion  in  charge  at  the  portico  appeared,  and  in  the 
gateway  called  to  Ben-IIur. 

"  Ho,  insolent !     Art  thou  a  Roman  or  a  Jew  ?" 

Ben-IIur  answered,  "  I  am  a  son  of  Judah,  born  here. 
What  wouldst  thou  with  me  ?" 

"Stay  and  fight." 

"  Singly  ?" 


438  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST. 

"  As  thou  wilt !" 

Ben-Hur  laughed  derisively. 

"  O  brave  Roman  !  Worthy  son  of  the  bastard  Roman 
Jove  !  I  have  no  arms." 

"  Thou  shalt  have  mine,"  the  centurion  answered.  "  I 
will  borrow  of  the  guard  here." 

The  people  in  hearing  of  the  colloquy  became  silent ; 
and  from  them  the  hush  spread  afar.  But  lately  Ben-Hur 
had  beaten  a  Roman  under  the  eyes  of  Antioch  and  the 
Farther  East ;  now,  could  he  beat  another  one  under  the 
eyes  of  Jerusalem,  the  honor  might  be  vastly  profitable  to 
the  cause  of  the  New  King.  He  did  not  hesitate.  Going 
frankly  to  the  centurion,  he  said,  "  I  am  willing.  Lend  me 
thy  sword  and  shield." 

"  And  the  helm  and  breastplate  ?"  asked  the  Roman. 

"  Keep  them.     They  might  not  fit  me." 

The  arms  were  as  frankly  delivered,  and  directly  the 
centurion  was  ready.  All  this  time  the  soldiers  in  rank 
close  by  the  gate  never  moved ;  they  simply  listened.  As 
to  the  multitude,  only  when  the  combatants  advanced  to 
begin  the  fight  the  question  sped  from  mouth  to  mouth. 
"  Who  is  he  ?"  And  no  one  knew. 

Now  the  Roman  supremacy  in  arms  lay  in  three  things 
— submission  to  discipline,  the  legionary  formation  of  bat 
tle,  and  a  peculiar  use  of  the  short  sword.  In  combat, 
they  never  struck  or  cut ;  from  first  to  last  they  thrust — 
they  advanced  thrusting,  they  retired  thrusting  ;  and  gen 
erally  their  aim  was  at  the  foeman's  face.  All  this  was 
well  known  to  Ben-Hur.  As  they  were  about  to  engage 
he  said, 

"  I  told  thee  I  was  a  son  of  Judah ;  but  I  did  not  tell 
that  I  am  lanista-taught.  Defend  thyself  !" 

At  the  last  word  Ben-Hur  closed  with  his  antagonist. 
A  moment,  standing  foot  to  foot,  they  glared  at  each  other 
over  the  rims  of  their  embossed  shields ;  then  the  Roman 
pushed  forward  and  feinted  an  under-thrust.  The  Jew 
laughed  at  him.  A  thrust  at  the  face  followed.  The  Jew 
atepped  lightly  to  the  left ;  quick  as  the  thrust  was,  the 
step  was  quicker.  Under  the  lifted  arm  of  the  foe  he  slid 
his  shield,  advancing  it  until  the  sword  and  sword-arm 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST.  439 

were  both  caught  on  its  upper  surface  ;  another  step,  this 
time  forward  and  left,  and  the  man's  whole  right  side  was 
offered  to  the  point.  The  centurion  fell  heavily  on  his 
breast,  clanging  the  pavement,  and  Ben-Hur  had  won. 
With  his  foot  upon  his  enemy's  back,  he  raised  his  shield 
overhead  after  a  gladiatorial  custom,  and  saluted  the  im 
perturbable  soldiers  by  the  gate. 

When  the  people  realized  the  victory  they  behaved  like 
mad.  On  the  houses  far  as  the  Xystus,  fast  as  the  word 
could  fly,  they  waved  their  shawls  and  handkerchiefs  and 
shouted ;  and  if  he  had  consented,  the  Galileans  would 
have  carried  Bcn-IIur  off  upon  their  shoulders. 

To  a  petty  officer  who  then  advanced  from  the  gate  he 
said,  "  Thy  comrade  died  like  a  soldier.  I  leave  him  un- 
despoiled.  Only  his  sword  and  shield  are  mine." 

With  that,  he  walked  away.  Off  a  little  he  spoke  to  the 
Galileans. 

"  Brethren,  you  have  behaved  well.  Let  us  now  sepa 
rate,  lest  we  be  pursued.  Meet  me  to-night  at  the  khan  in 
Bethany.  I  have  something  to  propose  to  you  of  great 
interest  to  Israel." 

"  Who  are  you  !"  they  asked  him. 

"  A  son  of  Judah,"  he  answered,  simply. 

A  throng  eager  to  see  him  surged  around  the  party. 

"  Will  you  come  to  Bethany  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  we  will  come." 

"  Then  bring  with  you  this  sword  and  shield  that  I  may 
know  you." 

Pushing  brusquely  through  the  increasing  crowd,  he 
speedily  disappeared. 

At  the  instance  of  Pilate,  the  people  went  up  from  the 
city,  and  carried  off  their  dead  and  wounded,  and  there  was 
much  mourning  for  them  ;  but  the  grief  was  greatly  light 
ened  by  the  victory  of  the  unknown  champion,  who  was 
everywhere  sought,  and  by  every  one  extolled.  The  faint 
ing  spirit  of  the  nation  was  revived  by  the  brave  deed ;  in 
somuch  that  in  the  streets  and  up  in  the  Temple  even, 
amidst  the  solemnities  of  the  feast,  old  tales  of  the  Macca 
bees  were  told  again,  and  thousands  shook  their  heads 
whispering  wisely, 


440  BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"A  little  longer,. only  a  little  longer,  brethren,  and  Is 
rael  will  come  to  her  own.  Let  there  be  faith  in  the  Lord, 
and  patience." 

In  such  manner  Ben-Hur  obtained  hold  on  Galilee,  and 
paved  the  way  to  greater  services  in  the  cause  of  the  King 
Who  Was  Coming. 

And  with  what  result  we  shall  see. 


BOOK  SEVENTH. 


"  And,  waking,  I  beheld  her  there 
Sea-dreaming  in  the  moted  air, 
A  siren  lithe  and  debonair, 
With  wristlets  woven  of  scarlet  weeds, 
And  oblong  lucent  amber  beads 
Of  sea-kelp  shining  in  her  hair." 

THOMAS  BAILEY  ALDRICH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  meeting  took  place  in  the  khan  of  Bethany  as  ap 
pointed.  Thence  Ben-IIur  went  with  the  Galileans  into 
their  country,  where  his  exploits  up  in  the  old  Market 
place  gave  him  fame  and  influence.  Before  the  winter 
was  gone  he  raised  three  legions,  and  organized  them  after 
the  Roman  pattern.  He  could  have  had  as  many  mpre,  for 
the  martial  spirit  of  that  gallant  people  never  slept.  The 
proceeding,  however,  required  careful  guarding  as  against 
both  Rome  and  Herod  Antipas.  Contenting  himself  for  the 
present  with  the  three,  he  strove  to  train  and  educate  them 
for  systematic  action.  For  that  purpose  he  carried  the 
officers  over  into  the  lava-beds  of  Trachonitis,  and  taught 
them  the  use  of  arms,  particularly  the  javelin  and  sword, 
and  the  manoeuvring  peculiar  to  the  legionary  formation  ; 
after  which  he  sent  them  home  as  teachers.  And  soon  the 
training  became  a  pastime  of  the  people. 

As  may  be  thought,  the  task  called  for  patience,  skill, 
zeal,  faith,  and  devotion  on  his  part — qualities  into  which 
the  power  of  inspiring  others  in  matters  of  difficulty  is  al- 


442  BEN-nUR :  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

ways  resolvable  ;  and  never  man  possessed  them  in  greater 
degree  or  used  them  to  better  effect.  How  he  labored  ! 
And  with  utter  denial  of  self !  Yet  withal  he  would  have 
failed  but  for  the  support  he  had  from  Simonides,who  fur 
nished  him  arms  and  money,  and  from  Ilderim,  who  kept 
watch  and  brought  him  supplies.  And  still  he  would  have 
failed  but  for  the  genius  of  the  Galileans. 

Under  that  name  were  comprehended  the  four  tribes — 
Asher,  Zebulon,  Issachar,  and  Naphthali — and  the  districts 
originally  set  apart  to  them.  The  Jew  born  in  sight  of  the 
Temple  despised  these  brethren  of  the  north  ;  but  the  Tal 
mud  itself  has  said,  "  The  Galilean  loves  honor,  and  the 
Jew  money." 

Hating  Rome  fervidly  as  they  loved  their  own  country, 
in  every  revolt  they  were  first  in  the  field  and  last  to  leave 
it.  One  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  Galilean  youths  per 
ished  in  the  final  war  with  Rome.  For  the  great  festal  days 
they  went  up  to  Jerusalem  marching  and  camping  like  ar 
mies  ;  yet  they  were  liberal  in  sentiment,  and  even  tolerant 
to  heathenism.  In  Herod's  beautiful  cities,  which  were 
Roman  in  all  things,  in  Sepphoris  and  Tiberias  especially, 
they  took  pride,  and  in  the  building  them  gave  loyal  sup 
port.  They  had  for  fellow-citizens  men  from  the  outside 
world  everywhere,  and  lived  in  peace  with  them.  To  the 
glory  of  the  Hebrew  name  they  contributed  poets  like  the 
singer  of  the  Song  of  Songs,  and  prophets  like  Hosea. 

Upon  such  a  people,  so  quick,  so  proud,  so  brave,  so  de 
voted,  so  imaginative,  a  tale  like  that  of  the  coming  of  the 
King  was  all-powerful.  That  he  was  coming  to  put  Rome 
down  would  have  been  sufficient  to  enlist  them  in  the 
scheme  proposed  by  Ben-Hur ;  but  when,  besides,  they 
were  assured  he  was  to  rule  the  world,  more  mighty  than 
Caesar,  more  magnificent  than  Solomon,  and  that  the  rule 
was  to  last  forever,  the  appeal  was  irresistible,  and  they 
vowed  themselves  to  the  cause  body  and  soul.  They  asked 
Ben-Hur  his  authority  for  the  sayings,  and  he  quoted  the 
prophets,  and  told  them  of  Balthasar  in  waiting  over  in 
Antioch  ;  and  they  were  satisfied,  for  it  was  the  old  much- 
loved  legend  of  the  Messiah,  familiar  to  them  almost  as  the 
name  of  the  Lord :  the  long-cherished  dream  with  a  time 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  443 

fixed  for  its  realization.    The  King  was  not  merely  coming 
now  ;  he  was  at  hand. 

So  with  Ben-Hur  the  winter  months  rolled  by,  and  spring 
came,  with  gladdening  showers  blown  over  from  the  sum 
mering  sea  in  the  west ;  and  by  that  time  so  earnestly  and 
successfully  had  he  toiled  that  he  could  say  to  himself  and 
his  followers,  "  Let  the  good  King  come.  He  has  only  to 
tell  us  where  he  will  have  his  throne  set  up.  We  have  the 
sword-hands  to  keep  it  for  him." 

And  in  all  his  dealings  with  the  many  men  they  knew 
him  only  as  a  son  of  Judah,  and  by  that  name. 

****** 

One  evening,  over  in  Trachonitis,  Ben-llur  was  sitting 
with  some  of  his  Galileans  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave  in 
which  he  quartered,  Avhen  an  Arab  courier  rode  to  him,  and 
delivered  a  letter.  Breaking  the  package,  he  read, 

"  JERUSALEM,  Nisan  IV. 

"  A  prophet  has  appeared  who  men  say  is  Elias.  He  has  been  in 
the  wilderness  for  years,  and  to  our  eyes  he  is  a  prophet ;  and  such 
also  is  his  speech,  the  burden  of  which  is  of  one  much  greater  than 
himself,  who,  he  says,  is  to  come  presently,  and  for  whom  he  is  now 
waiting  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  River  Jordan.  I  have  been  to  see 
and  hear  him,  and  the  one  he  is  waiting  for  is  certainly  the  King  you 
are  awaiting.  Come  and  judge  for  yourself. 

"AH  Jerusalem  is  going  out  to  the  prophet,  and  with  many  people 
else  the  shore  on  which  he  abides  is  like  Mount  Olivet  in  the  last  days 
of  the  Passover.  MALLUCU." 

Ben-Hur's  face  flushed  with  joy. 

"  By  this  word,  O  my  friends,"  he  said — "  by  this  word, 
our  waiting  is  at  end.  The  herald  of  the  King  has  ap 
peared  and-  announced  him." 

Upon  hearing  the  letter  read,  they  also  rejoiced  at  the 
promise  it  held  out. 

"  Get  ready  now,"  he  added,  "  and  in  the  morning  set 
your  faces  homeward ;  when  arrived  there,  send  word  to 
those  under  you,  and  bid  them  be  ready  to  assemble  as  I 
may  direct.  For  myself  and  you,  I  will  go  see  if  the  King 
be  indeed  at  hand,  and  send  you  report.  Let  us,  in  the 
meantime,  live  in  the  pleasure  of  the  promise." 

Going  into  the  cave,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  Ilderim,  and 
another  to  Simonides,  giving  notice  of  the  news  received, 


444  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

and  of  his  purpose  to  go  up  immediately  to  Jerusalem. 
The  letters  he  despatched  by  swift  messengers.  When 
night  fell,  and  the  stars  of  direction  came  out,  he  mounted, 
and  with  an  Arab  guide  set  out  for  the  Jordan,  intending 
to  strike  the  track  of  the  caravans  betAveen  Rabbath-Am- 
mon  and  Damascus. 

The  guide  was  sure,  and  Aldebaran  swift ;  so  by  mid 
night  the  two  were  out  of  the  lava  fastness  speeding  south 
ward. 


CHAPTER  II. 

IT  was  Ben-Hur's  purpose  to  turn  aside  at  the  break  of 
day,  and  find  a  safe  place  in  Avhich  to  rest ;  but  the  dawn 
overtook  him  while  out  in  the  Desert,  and  he  kept  on,  the 
guide  promising  to  bring  him  afterwhile  to  a  vale  shut  in 
by  great  rocks,  where  there  were  a  spring,  some  mulberry- 
trees,  and  herbage  in  plenty  for  the  horses. 

As  he  rode  thinking  of  the  wondrous  events  so  soon  to 
happen,  and  of  the  changes  they  were  to  bring  about  in  the 
affairs  of  men  and  nations,  the  guide,  ever  on  the  alert, 
called  attention  to  an  appearance  of  strangers  behind  them. 
Everywhere  around  the  Desert  stretched  away  in  waves  of 
sand,  slowly  yellowing  in  the  growing  light,  and  without 
any  green  thing  visible.  Over  on  the  left,  but  still  far  off, 
a  range  of  low  mountains  extended,  apparently  intermina 
ble.  In  the  vacancy  of  such  a  waste  an  object  in  motion 
could  not  long  continue  a  mystery. 

"It  is  a  camel  with  riders,"  the  guide  said,  directly. 

"Are  there  others  behind?"  said  Ben-Hur. 

"  It  is  alone.  No,  there  is  a  man  on  horseback — the 
driver,  probably." 

A  little  later  Ben-Hur  himself  could  see  the  camel  was 
white  and  unusually  large,  reminding  him  of  the  wonderful 
animal  he  had  seen  bring  Balthasar  and  Iras  to  the  fountain 
in  the  Grove  of  Daphne.  There  could  be  no  other  like  it. 
Thinking  then  of  the  fair  Egyptian,  insensibly  his  gait  be 
came  slower,  and  at  length  fell  into  the  merest  loiter,  until 
finally  he  could  discern  a  curtained  houdah,  and  two  persons 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  445 

seated  within  it.  If  they  were  Balthasar  and  Iras  !  Should 
he  make  himself  known  to  them  ?  But  it  could  not  be : 
this  was  the  Desert — and  they  were  alone.  But  while  he 
debated  the  question  the  long  swinging  stride  of  the  camel 
brought  its  riders  up  to  him.  He  heard  the  ringing  of  the 
tiny  bells,  and  beheld  the  rich  housings  which  bad  been  so 
attractive  to  the  crowd  at  the  Castalian  fount.  He  beheld 
also  the  Ethiopian,  always  attendant  upon  the  Egyptians. 
The  tall  brute  stopped  close  by  his  horse,  and  Bcn-Hur, 
looking  up,  lo !  Iras  herself  under  the  raised  curtain  look 
ing  down  at  him,  her  great  swimming  eyes  bright  with  as 
tonishment  and  inquiry  ! 

"  The  blessing  of  the  true  God  upon  you  !"  said  Baltha 
sar,  in  his  tremulous  voice. 

"  And  to  thee  and  thine  be  the  peace  of  the  Lord,"  Ben- 
Hur  replied. 

"  My  eyes  are  weak  with  years,"  said  Balthasar  ;  "  but 
they  approve  you  that  son  of  Hur  whom  lately  I  knew  an 
honored  guest  in  the  tent  of  Ilderim  the  Generous." 

"  And  thou  art  that  Balthasar,  the  wise  Egyptian,  whose 
speech  concerning  certain  holy  things  in  expectation  is 
having  so  much  to  do  with  the  finding  me  in  this  waste 
place.  What  dost  thou  here  ?" 

JlHe  is  never  alone  who  is  where  God  is — and  God  is 
everywhere,".  Balthasar  answered,  gravely ;  "  but  in  the 
sense  of  your  asking,  there  is  a  caravan  short  way  behind 
us  going  to  Alexandria ;  and  as  it  is  to  pass  through  Jeru 
salem,  1  thought  best  to  avail  myself  of  its  company  as  far 
as  the  Holy  City,  whither  I  am  journeying.  This  morning, 
however,  in  discontent  with  its  slow  movement — slower 
because  of  a  Roman  cohort  in  attendance  upon  it — we  rose 
early,  and  ventured  thus  far  in  advance.  As  to  robbers 
along  the  way,  we  are  not  afraid,  for  I  have  here  a  signet 
of  Sheik  Ilderim  ;  against  beasts  of  prey,  God  is  our  suffi 
cient  trust." 

Ben-IIur  bowed  and  said,  "  The  good  sheik's  signet  is  a 
safeguard  wherever  the  wilderness  extends,  and  the  lion 
shall  be  swift  that  overtakes  this  king  of  his  kind." 

He  patted  the  neck  of  the  camel  as  he  spoke. 

"  Yet,"  said  Iras,  with  a  smile  which  was  not  lost  upon 


446  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

the  youth,  whose  eyes,  it  must  be  admitted,  had  several 
times  turned  to  her  during  the  interchange  of  speeches 
with  the  elder — "  Yet  even  he  would  be  better  if  his  fast 
were  broken.  Kings  have  hunger  and  headaches.  If  you 
be,  indeed,  the  Ben-Hur  of  whom  my  father  has  spoken, 
and  whom  jt  was  my  pleasure  to  have  known  as  well,  you 
will  be  happy,  I  am  sure,  to  show  us  some  near  path  to  liv 
ing  water,  that  with  its  sparkle  we  may  grace  a  morning's 
meal  in  the  Desert." 

Ben-Hur,  nothing  loath,  hastened  to  answer. 

"  Fair  Egyptian,  I  give  you  sympathy.  Can  you  bear 
suffering  a  little  longer,  we  will  find  the  spring  you  ask  for, 
and  I  promise  that  its  draught  shall  be  as  sweet  and  cool 
ing  as  that  of  the  more  famous  Castalia.  With  leave,  we 
will  make  haste." 

"  I  give  you  the  blessing  of  the  thirsty,"  she  replied ; 
"  and  offer  you  in  return  a  bit  of  bread  from  the  city  ovens, 
dipped  in  fresh  butter  from  the  dewy  meadows  of  Damas 
cus." 

"  A  most  rare  favor !     Let  us  go  on." 

So  saying,  Ben-Hur  rode  forward  with  the  guide,  one  of 
the  inconveniences  of  travelling  with  camels  being  that  it 
is  necessarily  an  interdiction  of  polite  conversation. 

Afterwhile  the  party  came  to  a  shallow  wady,  down 
which,  turning  to  the  right  hand,  the  guide  led  them.  The 
bed  of  the  cut  was  somewhat  soft  from  recent  rains,  and 
quite  bold  in  its  descent.  Momentarily,  however,  it  wi 
dened  ;  and  erelong  the  sides  became  bluffs  ribbed  with 
rocks  much  scarred  by  floods  rushing  to  lower  depths 
ahead.  Finally,  from  a  narrow  passage,  the  travellers  en 
tered  a  spreading  vale  which  was  very  delightful ;  but 
come  upon  suddenly  from  the  yellow,  unrelieved,  verdure- 
less  plain,  it  had  the  effect  of  a  freshly  discovered  Paradise. 
The  water-channels  winding  here  and  there,  definable  by 
crisp  white  shingling,  appeared  like  threads  tangled  among 
islands  green  with  grasses  and  fringed  with  reeds.  Up 
from  the  final  depths  of  the  valley  of  the  Jordan  some 
venturous  oleanders  had  crept,  and  with  their  large  bloom 
now  starred  the  sunken  place.  One  palm-tree  arose  in 
royal  assertion.  The  bases  of  the  boundary-walls  were 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  447 

cloaked  with  clambering  vines,  and  under  a  leaning  cliff 
over  on  the  left  the  mulberry  grove  had  planted  itself,  pro 
claiming  the  spring  which  the  party  were  seeking.  And 
thither  the  guide  conducted  them,  careless  of  whistling  par 
tridges  and  lesser  birds  of  brighter  hues  roused  whirring 
from  the  reedy  coverts. 

The  water  started  from  a  crack  in  the  cliff  which  some 
loving  hand  had  enlarged  into  an  arched  cavity.  Graven 
over  it  in  bold  Hebraic  letters  was  the  word  GOD.  The 
graver  had  no  doubt  drunk  there,  and  tarried  many  days, 
and  given  thanks  in  that  durable  form.  From  the  arch  the 
stream  ran  merrily  over  a  flag  spotted  with  bright  moss, 
and  leaped  into  a  pool  glassy  clear ;  thence  it  stole  away 
between  grassy  banks,  nursing  the  trees  before  it  vanished 
in  the  thirsty  sand.  A  few  narrow  paths  were  noticeable 
about  the  margin  of  the  pool ;  otherwise  the  space  around 
was  untrodden  turf,  at  sight  of  which  the  guide  was  as 
sured  of  rest  free  from  intrusion  by  men.  The  horses 
were  presently  turned  loose,  and  from  the  kneeling  camel 
the  Ethiopian  assisted  Balthasar  and  Iras ;  whereupon  the 
old  man,  turning  his  face  to  the  east,  crossed  his  hands 
reverently  upon  his  breast  and  prayed. 

"  Bring  me  a  cup,"  Iras  said,  with  some  impatience. 

From  the  houdah  the  slave  brought  her  a  crystal  goblet ; 
then  she  said  to  Ben-Hur, 

"  I  will  be  your  servant  at' the  fountain." 

They  walked  to  the  pool  together.  He  would  have 
dipped  the  water  for  her,  but  she  refused  his  offer,  and, 
kneeling,  held  the  cup  to  be  filled  by  the  stream  itself  ;  nor 
yet  content,  when  it  was  cooled  and  overrunning,  she  ten 
dered  him  the  first  draught. 

"  No,"  he  said,  putting  the  graceful  hand  aside,  and  see 
ing  only  the  large  eyes  half  hidden  beneath  the  arches  of 
the  upraised  brows,  "  be  the  service  mine,  I  pray." 

She  persisted  in  having  her- way. 

"  In  my  country,  0  son  of  Ilur,  we  have  a  saying, '  Better 
a  cup-bearer  to  the  fortunate  than  minister  to  a  king.' " 

"  Fortunate  !"  he  said. 

There  were  both  surprise  and  inquiry  in  the  tone  of  his 
voice  and  in  his  look,  and  she  said  quickly, 


448  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  The  gods  give  us  success  as  a  sign  by  which  we  may 
know  them  on  our  side.  Were  you  not  winner  in  the  Cir 
cus  ?" 

His  cheeks  began  to  flush. 

"  That  was  one  sign.  There  is  another.  In  a  combat 
with  swords  you  slew  a  Roman." 

The  flush  deepened — not  so  much  for  the  triumphs  them 
selves  as  the  flattery  there  was  in  the  thought  that  she  had 
followed  his  career  with  interest.  A  moment,  and  the  pleas 
ure  was  succeeded  by  a  reflection.  The  combat,  he  knew, 
was  matter  of  report  throughout  the  East ;  but  the  name 
of  the  victor  had  been  committed  to  a  very  few — Malluch, 
Ilderim,  and  Sirnonides.  Could  they  have  made  a  confidante 
of  the  woman  ?  So  with  wonder  and  gratification  he  was 
confused ;  and  seeing  it,  she  arose  and  said,  holding  the 
cup  over  the  pool, 

"  O  gods  of  Egypt !  I  give  thanks  for  a  hero  discovered 
— thanks  that  the  victim  in  the  Palace  of  Idernee  was  not 
my  king  of  men.  And  so,  O  holy  gods,  I  pour  and  drink." 

Part  of  the  contents  of  the  cup  she  returned  to  the  stream, 
the  rest  she  drank.  When  she  took  the  crystal  from  her 
lips,  she  laughed  at  him. 

"  O  son  of  Hur,  is  it  a  fashion  of  the  very  brave  to  be  so 
easily  overcome  by  a  woman  ?  Take  the  cup  now,  and  see 
if  you  cannot  find  a  happy  word  in  it  for  me." 

He  took  the  cup,  and  stooped  to  refill  it. 

"  A  son  of  Israel  has  no  gods  whom  he  can  libate,"  he 
said,  playing  with  the  water  to  hide  his  amazement,  now 
greater  than  before.  What  more  did  the  Egyptian  know 
about  him  ?  Had  she  been  told  of  his  relations  with  Si- 
monides  ?  And  there  was  the  treaty  with  Ilderim — had 
she  knowledge  of  that  also?  He  was  struck  with  mistrust. 
Somebody  had  betrayed  his  secrets,  and  they  were  serious. 
And,  besides,  he  was  going  to  Jerusalem,  just  then  of  all 
the  world  the  place  where  such  intelligence  possessed  by 
an  enemy  might  be  most  dangerous  to  him,  his  associates, 
and  the  cause.  But  was  she  an  enemy  ?  It  is  well  for  us 
that,  while  writing  is  slow,  thought  is  instantaneous.  When 
the  cup  was  fairly  cooled,  he  filled  it  and  arose,  saying,  with 
indifference  well  affected, 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  449 

"Most  fair,  were  I  an  Egyptian  or  a  Greek  or  a  Roman, 
I  would  say" — lie  raised  tlie  goblet  overhead  as  he  spoke — 
"  O  ye  better  gods  !  I  give  thanks  that  there  are  yet  left 
to  the  world,  despite  its  wrongs  and  sufferings,  the  charm 
of  beauty  and  the  solace  of  love,  and  I  drink  to  her  who 
best  represents  them — to  Iras,  loveliest  of  the  daughters 
of  the  Nile  !" 

She  laid  her  hand  softly  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  You  have  offended  against  the  law.  The  gods  you 
have  drunk  to  are  false  gods.  Why  shall  I  not  tell  the 
rabbis  on  you !" 

"  Oh !"  he  replied,  laughing,  "  that  is  very  little  to  tell 
for  one  who  knows  so  much  else  that  is  really  important." 

"  I  will  go  further — I  will  go  to  the  little  Jewess  who 
makes  the  roses  grow  and  the  shadows  flame  in  the  house 
of  the  great  merchant  over  in  Antioch.  To  the  rabbis  I 
will  accuse  you  of  impenitence  ;  to  her — " 

"  Well,  to  her  ?" 

"  I  will  repeat  what  you  have  said  to  me  under  the  lifted 
cup,  with  the  gods  for  witnesses." 

He  was  still  a  moment,  as  if  waiting  for  the  Egyptian  to 
go  on.  With  quickened  fancy  he  saw  Esther  at  her  father's 
side  listening  to  the  despatches  he  had  forwarded — some 
times  reading  them.  In  her  presence  he  had  told  Simonidcs 
the  story  of  the  affair  in  the  Palace  of  Idernee.  She  and 
Iras  were  acquainted ;  this  one  was  shrewd  and  worldly ; 
the  other  was  simple  and  affectionate,  and  therefore  easily 
won.  Simonides  could  not  have  broken  faith — nor  Ildcrim 
— for  if  not  held  by  honor,  there  was  no  one,  unless  it 
might  be  himself,  to  whom  the  consequences  of  exposure 
were  more  serious  and  certain.  Could  Esther  have  been 
the  Egyptian's  informant  ?  He  did  not  accuse  her ;  yet  a 
suspicion  was  sown  with  the  thought,  and  suspicions,  as  we 
all  know,  are  weeds  of  the  mind  which  grow  of  themselves, 
and  most  rapidly  when  least  wanted.  Before  he  could  an 
swer  the  allusion  to  the  little  Jewess,  Balthasar  came  to 
the  pool. 

"  We  are  greatly  indebted  to  you,  son  of  Ilur,"  he  said, 
in  his  grave  manner.  "  This  vale  is  very  beautiful ;  the 
grass,  the  trees,  the  shade,  invite  us  to  stay  and  rest,  and  the 
29 


450  BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

spring  here  has  the  sparkle  of  diamonds  in  motion,  and 
sings  to  me  of  a  loving  God.  It  is  not  enough  to  thank 
yon  for  the  enjoyment  we  find  ;  come  sit  with  us,  and  taste 
our  bread." 

"  Suffer  me  first  to  serve  you." 

With  that  Ben-Hur  filled  the  goblet,  and  gave  it  to  Bal- 
thasar,  who  lifted  his  eyes  in  thanksgiving. 

Immediately  the  slave  brought  napkins  ;  and  after  laving 
their  hands  and  drying  them,  the  three  seated  themselves 
in  Eastern  style  under  the  tent  which  year's  before  had 
served  the  Wise  Men  at  the  meeting  in  the  Desert.  And 
they  ate  heartily  of  the  good  things  taken  from  the  camel's 
pack. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  tent  was  cosily  pitched  beneath  a  tree  where  the 
gurgle  of  the  stream  was  constantly  in  ear.  Overhead  the 
broad  leaves  hung  motionless  on  their  stems ;  the  delicate 
reed-stalks  off  in  the  pearly  haze  stood  up  arrowy-straight ; 
occasionally  a  home-returning  bee  shot  humming  athwart 
the  shade,  and  a  partridge  creeping  from  the  sedge  drank, 
whistled  to  his  mate,  and  ran  away.  The  restfulness  of  the 
vale,  the  freshness  of  the  air,  the  garden  beauty,  the  Sab 
bath  stillness,  seemed  to  have  affected  the  spirits  of  the 
elder  Egyptian ;  his  voice,  gestures,  and  whole  manner 
were  unusually  gentle  ;  and  often  as  he  bent  his  eyes  upon 
Ben-Hur  conversing  with  Iras,  they  softened  with  pity. 

"  When  we  overtook  you,  son  of  Hur,"  he  said,  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  repast,  "  it  seemed  your  face  was  also 
turned  towards  Jerusalem.  May  I  ask,  without  offence,  if 
you  are  going  so  far  ?" 

"  I  am  going  to  the  Holy  City." 

"  For  the  great  need  I  have  to  spare  myself  prolonged 
toil,  I  will  further  ask  you,  Is  there  a  shorter  road  than 
that  by  Rabbath-Ammon  ?" 

"  A  rougher  route,  but  shorter,  lies  by  Gcrasa  and  Rab- 
bath-Gilead.  It  is  the  one  I  design  taking." 

"  I  am  impatient,"  said  Balthasar.     "  Latterly  my  sleep 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST.  451 

has  been  visited  by  dreams — or  rather  by  the  same  dream 
in  repetition.  A  voice — it  is  nothing  more — comes  and 
tells  me,  'Haste — arise!  He  whom  thou  hast  so  long 
awaited  is  at  hand.' " 

"  You  mean  he  that  is  to  be  King  of  the  Jews  ?"  Ben- 
Hur  asked,  gazing  at  the  Egyptian  in  wonder. 

"  Even  so." 

"Then  you  have  heard  nothing  of  him?" 

"  Nothing,  except  the  words  of  the  voice  in  the  dream." 

"  Here,  then,  are  tidings  to  make  you  glad  as  they  made 
me." 

From  his  gown  Ben-IIur  drew  the  letter  received  from 
Malluch.  The  hand  the  Egyptian  held  out  trembled  vio 
lently.  He  read  aloud,  and  as  he  read  his  feelings  in 
creased  ;  the  limp  veins  in  his  neck  swelled  and  throbbed. 
At  the  conclusion  he  raised  his  suffused  eyes  in  thanks 
giving  and  prayer.  He  asked  no  questions,  yet  had  no 
doubts. 

"  Thou  hast  been  very  good  to  me,  O  God,"  he  said. 
"  Give  me,  I  pray  thee,  to  see  the  Saviour  again,  and  wor 
ship  him,  and  thy  servant  will  be  ready  to  go  in  peace." 

The  words,  the  manner,  the  singular  personality  of  the 
simple  prayer,  touched  Ben-IIur  with  a  sensation  new  and 
abiding.  God  never  seemed  so  actual  and  so  near  by ;  it 
was  as  if  he  were  there  bending  over  them  or  sitting  at 
their  side — a  Friend  whose  favors  were  to  be  had  by  the 
most  unceremonious  asking — a  Father  to  whom  all  his 
children  were  alike  in  love — Father,  not  more  of  the  Jew 
than  of  the  Gentile — the  universal  Father,  who  needed  no 
intermediates,  no  rabbis,  no  priests,  no  teachers.  The  idea 
that  such  a  God  might  send  mankind  a  Saviour  instead  of 
a  king  appeared  to  Ben-IIur  in  a  light  not  merely  new,  but 
so  plain  that  he  could  almost  discern  both  the  greater  want 
of  such  a  gift  and  its  greater  consistency  with  the  nature 
of  such  a  Deity.  So  he  could  not  resist  asking, 

"  Now  that  he  has  come,  O  Balthasar,  you  still  think  he 
is  to  be  a  Saviour,  and  not  a  king  ?" 

Balthasar  gave  him  a  look  thoughtful  as  it  was  tender. 

"  How  shall  I  understand  you  ?"  he  asked,  in  return. 
"  The  Spirit,  which  was  the  Star  that  was  my  guide  of  old, 


452  BEX-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

lias  not  appeared  to  me  since  I  met  yon  in  the  tent  of  the 
good  sheik ;  that  is  to  say,  I  have  not  seen  or  heard  it  as 
formerly.  I  believe  the  voice  that  spoke  to  me  in  my 
dreams  was  it ;  but  other  than  that  I  have  no  revela 
tion." 

"  I  will  recall  the  difference  between  us,"  said  Ben-IIur, 
with  deference.  "  You  were  of  opinion  that  he  would  be 
a  king,  but  not  as  Cresar  is ;  you  thought  his  sovereignty 
would  be  spiritual,  not  of  the  world." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  the  Egyptian  answered ;  "  and  I  am  of  the 
same  opinion  now.  I  see  the  divergence  in  our  faith.  You 
are  going  to  meet  a  king  of  men,  I  a  Saviour  of  souls." 

He  paused  with  the  look  often  seen  when  people  are 
struggling,  with  introverted  effort,  to  disentangle  a  thought 
which  is  either  too  high  for  quick  discernment  or  too  sub 
tle  for  simple  expression. 

"  Let  me  try,  O  son  of  Hur,"  he  said,  directly,  "and  help 
you  to  a  clear  understanding  of  my  belief  ;  then  it  may  be, 
seeing  how  the  spiritual  kingdom  I  expect  him  to  set  up 
can  be  more  excellent  in  every  sense  than  anything  of  mere 
Caesarean  splendor,  you  will  better  understand  the  reason 
of  the  interest  I  take  in  the  mysterious  person  we  are  go 
ing  to  welcome. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  when  the  idea  of  a  Soul  in  every  man 
had  its  origin.  Most  likely  the  first  parents  brought  it 
with  them  out  of  the  garden  in  which  they  had  their  first 
dwelling.  We  all  do  know,  however,  that  it  has  never  per 
ished  entirely  out  of  mind.  By  some  peoples  it  was  lost, 
but  not  by  all ;  in  some  ages  it  dulled  and  faded  ;  in  others 
it  was  overwhelmed  with  doubts ;  but,  in  great  goodness, 
God  kept  sending  us  at  intervals  mighty  intellects  to  argue 
it  back  to  faith  and  hope. 

"Why  should  there  be  a  Soul  in  every  man?  Look,  O 
son  of  Hur — for  one  moment  look  at  the  necessity  of  such 
a  device.  To  lie  down  and  die,  and  be  no  more — no  more 
forever — time  never  was  when  man  wished  for  such  an 
end ;  nor  has  the  man  ever  been  who  did  not  in  his  heart 
promise  himself  something  better.  The  monuments  of  the 
nations  are  all  protests  against  nothingness  after  death  ; 
so  are  statues  and  inscriptions ;  so  is  history.  The  great- 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF   THE   CIIRIST.  453 

est  of  our  Egyptian  kings  had  his  effigy  cut  out  of  a  hill  of 
solid  rock.  Day  after  day  he  went  with  a  host  in  chariots 
to  see  the  work ;  at  last  it  was  finished,  never  effigy  so 
grand,  so  enduring :  it  looked  like  him — the  features  were 
his,  faithful  even  in  expression.  Now  may  we  not  think 
of  him  saying  in  that  moment  of  pride, '  Let  Death  come ; 
there  is  an  after-life  for  me !'  lie  had  his  wish.  The 
statue  is  there  yet. 

"  But  what  is  the  after-life  he  thus  secured  ?  Only  a 
recollection  by  men — a  glory  unsubstantial  as  moonshine 
on  the  brow  of  the  great  bust ;  a  story  in  stone — nothing 
more.  Meantime  what  has  become  of  the  king  ?  There  is 
an  embalmed  body  up  in  the  royal  tombs  which  once  was 
his — an  effigy  not  so  fair  to  look  at  as  the  other  out  in  the 
Desert.  But  where,  O  son  of  Hur,  where  is  the  king  him 
self  ?  Is  he  fallen  into  nothingness  ?  Two  thousand  years 
have  gone  since  he  was  a  man  alive  as  you  and  I  are.  Was 
his  last  breath  the  end  of  him  ? 

"  To  say  yes  would  be  to  accuse  God ;  let  us  rather  ac 
cept  his  better  plan  of  attaining  life  after  death  for  us — 
actual  life,  I  mean — the  something  more  than  a  place  in 
mortal  memory ;  life  with  going  and  coming,  with  sensa 
tion,  with  knowledge,  with  power  and  all  appreciation ; 
life  eternal  in  term  though  it  may  be  with  changes  of  con 
dition. 

"Ask  you  what  God's  plan  is?  The  gift  of  a  Soul  to 
each  of  us  at  birth,  with  this  simple  law — there  shall  be  no 
immortality  except  through  the  Soul.  In  that  law  sec  the 
necessity  of  which  I  spoke. 

"  Let  us  turn  from  the  necessity  now.  A  word  as  to  the 
pleasure  there  is  in  the  thought  of  a  Soul  in  each  of  us. 
In  the  first  place,  it  robs  death  of  its  terrors  by  making 
dying  a  change  for  the  better,  and  burial  but  the  planting 
of  a  seed  from  which  there  will  spring  a  new  life.  In  the 
next  place,  behold  me  as  I  am — weak,  weary,  old,  shrunken 
in  body,  and  graceless  ;  look  at  my  wrinkled  face,  think  of 
my  failing  senses,  listen  to  my  shrilled  voice.  Ah !  what 
happiness  to  me  in  the  promise  that  when  the  tomb  opens, 
as  soon  it  will,  to  receive  the  worn-out  husk  I  call  myself, 
the  now  viewless  doors  of  the  universe,  which  is  but  the 


454  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

palace  of  God,  will  swing  wide  ajar  to  receive  me,  a  liber 
ated  immortal  Soul ! 

"  I  would  I  could  tell  the  ecstasy  there  must  be  in  that 
life  to  come  !  Do  not  say  I  know  nothing  about  it.  This 
much  I  know,  and  it  is  enough  for  me — the  being  a  Soul 
implies  conditions  of  divine  superiority.  In  such  a  being 
there  is  no  dust,  nor  any  gross  thing  ;  it  must  be  finer  than 
air,  more  impalpable  than  light,  purer  than  essence — it  is 
life  in  absolute  purity. 

"  What  now,  O  son  of  Hur  ?  Knowing  so  much,  shall  I 
dispute  with  myself  or  you  about  the  unnecessaries — about 
the  form  of  my  soul  ?  Or  where  it  is  to  abide  ?  Or  whether 
it  eats  and  drinks  ?  Or  is  winged,  or  wears  this  or  that  ? 
No.  It  is  more  becoming  to  trust  in  God.  The  beautiful 
in  this  world  is  all  from  his  hand  declaring  the  perfection 
of  taste  ;  he  is  the  author  of  all  form ;  he  clothes  the  lily, 
he  colors  the  rose,  he  distils  the  dew-drop,  he  makes  the 
music  of  nature ;  in  a  word,  he  organized  us  for  this  life, 
and  imposed  its  conditions  ;  and  they  are  such  guaranty  to 
me  that,  trustful  as  a  little  child,  I  leave  to  him  the  organ 
ization  of  my  Soul,  and  every  arrangement  for  the  life  after 
death.  I  know  he  loves  me." 

The  good  man  stopped  and  drank,  and  the  hand  carry 
ing  the  cup  to  his  lips  trembled ;  and  both  Iras  and  Ben- 
Hur  shared  his  emotion  and  remained  silent.  Upon  the 
latter  a  light  was  breaking.  He  was  beginning  to  see,  as 
never  before,  that  there  might  be  a  spiritual  kingdom  of 
more  import  to  men  than  any  earthly  empire ;  and  that 
after  all  a  Saviour  would  indeed  be  a  more  godly  gift  than 
the  greatest  king. 

"  I  might  ask  you  now,"  said  Balthasar,  continuing, 
"  whether  this  human  life,  so  troubled  and  brief,  is  prefera 
ble  to  the  perfect  and  everlasting  life  designed  for  the  Soul  ? 
But  take  the  question,  and  think  of  it  for  yourself,  formu 
lating  thus :  Supposing  both  to  be  equally  happy,  is  one 
hour  more  desirable  than  one  year?  From  that  then  ad 
vance  to  the  final  inquiry,  what  are  threescore  and  ten 
years  on  earth  to  all  eternity  with  God  ?  By-and-by,  son 
of  Hur,  thinking  in  such  manner,  you  will  be  filled  with 
the  meaning  of  the  fact  I  present  you  next,  to  me  the  most 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST.  455 

amazing  of  all  events,  and  in  its  effects  the  most  sorrowful ; 
it  is  that  the  very  idea  of  life  as  a  Soul  is  a  light  almost  gone 
out  in  the  world.  Here  and  there,  to  be  sure,  a  philosopher 
may  be  found  who  will  talk  to  you  of  a  Soul,  likening  it  to 
a  principle ;  but  because  philosophers  take  nothing  upon 
faith,  they  will  not  go  the  length  of  admitting  a  Soul  to  be 
a  being,  and  on  that  account  its  purpose  is  compressed 
darkness  to  them. 

"  Everything  animate  has  a  mind  measurable  by  its 
wants.  Is  there  to  you  no  meaning  in  the  singularity  that 
power  in  full  degree  to  speculate  upon  the  future  was  given 
to  man  alone  ?  By  the  sign  as  I  see  it,  God  meant  to  make 
us  know  ourselves  created  for  another  and  a  better  life, 
such  being  in  fact  the  greatest  need  of  our  nature.  But, 
alas  !  into  what  a  habit  the  nations  have  fallen  !  They  live 
for  the  day,  as  if  the  present  Avere  the  all  in  all,  and  go 
about  saying,  '  There  is  no  to-morrow  after  death ;  or  if 
there  be,  since  we  know  nothing  about  it,  be  it  a  care  unto 
itself.'  So  when  Death  calls  them,  '  Come,'  they  may  not 
enter  into  enjoyment  of  the  glorious  after-life  because  of 
their  unfitness.  That  is  to  say,  the  ultimate  happiness  of 
man  was  everlasting  life  in  the  society  of  God.  Alas,  O 
son  of  Hur,  that  I  should  say  it !  but  as  well  yon  sleeping 
camel  constant  in  such  society  as  the  holiest  priests  this 
day  serving  the  highest  altars  in  the  most  renowned  tem 
ples.  So  much  are  men  given  to  this  lower  earthly  life ! 
So  nearly  have  they  forgotten  that  other  which  is  to  come  ! 

"  See  now,  I  pray  you,  that  which  is  to  be  saved  to  us. 

"  For  my  part,  speaking  with  the  holiness  of  truth,  I 
would  not  give  one  hour  of  life  as  a  Soul  for  a  thousand 
years  of  life  as  a  man." 

Here  the  Egyptian  seemed  to  become  unconscious  of 
companionship  and  fall  awTay  into  abstraction. 

"  This  life  has  its  problems,"  he  said,  "  and  there  are 
men  who  spend  their  days  trying  to  solve  them ;  but  what 
are  they  to  the  problems  of  the  hereafter  ?  What  is  there 
like  knowing  God  ?  Not  a  scroll  of  the  mysteries,  but  the 
mysteries  themselves  would  for  that  hour  at  least  lie  before 
me  revealed ;  even  the  innermost  and  most  awful — the 
power  which  now  we  shrink  from  thought  of — which 


456  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

rimmed  the  void  with  shores,  and  lighted  the  darkness, 
and  out  of  nothing  appointed  the  universe.  All  places 
would  he  opened.  I  would  be  filled  with  divine  knowl 
edge  ;  I  would  see  all  glories,  taste  all  delights ;  I  would 
revel  in  being.  And  if,  at  the  end  of  the  hour,  it  should 
please  God  to  tell  me, '  I  take  thee  into  my  service  forever,' 
the  furthest  limit  of  desire  would  be  passed ;  after  which 
the  attainable  ambitions  of  this  life,  and  its  joys  of  what 
ever  kind,  would  not  be  so  much  as  the  tinkling  of  little 
bells." 

Balthasar  paused  as  if  to  recover  from  very  ecstasy  of 
feeling ;  and  to  Ben-Hur  it  seemed  the  speech  had  been 
the  delivery  of  a  Soul  speaking  for  itself. 

"  I  pray  pardon,  son  of  Hur,"  the  good  man  continued, 
with  a  bow  the  gravity  of  which  was  relieved  by  the  tender 
look  that  followed  it,  "  I  meant  to  leave  the  life  of  a  Soul, 
its  conditions,  pleasures,  superiority,  to  your  own  reflection 
and  finding  out.  The  joy  of  the  thought  has  betrayed  me 
into  much  speech.  I  set  out  to  show,  though  ever  so 
faintly,  the  reason  of  my  faith.  It  grieves  me  that  words 
are  so  weak.  But  help  yourself  to  truth.  Consider  first 
the  excellence  of  the  existence  which  was  reserved  for  us 
after  death,  and  give  heed  to  the  feelings  and  impulses  the 
thought  is  sure  to  awaken  in  you — heed  them,  I  say,  be 
cause  they  are  your  own  Soul  astir,  doing  what  it  can  to 
urge  you  in  the  right  way.  Consider  next  that  the  after 
life  has  become  so  obscured  as  to  justify  calling  it  a  lost 
light.  If  you  find  it,  rejoice,  O  son  of  Hur — rejoice  as  I 
do,  though  in  beggary  of  words.  For  then,  besides  the 
great  gift  which  is  to  be  saved  to  us,  you  will  have  found 
the  need  of  a  Saviour  so  infinitely  greater  than  the  need  of 
a  king ;  and  he  we  are  going  to  meet  will  not  longer  hold 
place  in  your  hope  a  warrior  with  a  sword  or  a  monarch 
with  a  crown. 

"  A  practical  question  presents  itself — How  shall  we 
know  him  at  sight  ?  If  you  continue  in  your  belief  as  to 
his  character — that  he  is  to  be  a  king  as  Herod  was — of 
course  you  will  keep  on  until  you  meet  a  man  clothed  in 
purple  and  with  a  sceptre.  On  the  other  hand,  he  I  look 
for  will  be  one  poor,  humble,  undistinguished — a  man  in 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  457 

appearance  as  other  men ;  and  the  sign  by  which  I  will 
know  him  will  be  never  so  simple,  lie  will  offer  to  show 
me  and  all  mankind  the  way  to  the  eternal  life ;  the  beau 
tiful  pure  Life  of  the  Soul." 

The  company  sat  a  moment  in  silence  which  was  broken 
by  Balthasar. 

"  Let  us  arise  now,"  he  said — "let  us  arise  and  set  for 
ward  again.  What  I  have  said  has  caused  a  return  of  im 
patience  to  see  him  who  is  ever  in  my  thought ;  and  if  I 
seem  to  hurry  you,  0  son  of  Hur— and  you,  my  daughter 
— be  that  my  excuse." 

At  his  signal  the  slave  brought  them  wine  in  a  skin  bot 
tle  ;  and  they  poured  and  drank,  and  shaking  the  lap-cloths 
out  arose. 

While  the  slave  restored  the  tent  and  wares  to  the  box 
under  the  houdah,  and  the  Arab  brought  up  the  horses,  the 
three  principals  laved  themselves  in  the  pool. 

In  a  little  while  they  were  retracing  their  steps  back 
through  the  wady,  intending  to  overtake  the  caravan  if  it 
had  passed  them  by. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  caravan,  stretched  out  upon  the  Desert,  was  very 
picturesque  ;  in  motion,  however,  it  was  like  a  lazy  serpent. 
By-and-by  its  stubborn  dragging  became  intolerably  irk 
some  to  Balthasar,  patient  as  he  was  ;  so,  at  his  suggestion, 
the  party  determined  to  go  on  by  themselves. 

If  the  reader  be  young,  or  if  he  has  yet  a  sympathetic 
recollection  of  the  romanticisms  of  his  youth,  he  will  relish 
the  pleasure  with  which  Bcn-Uur,  riding  near  the  camel  of 
the  Egyptians,  gave  a  last  look  at  the  head  of  the  strag 
gling  column  almost  out  of  sight  on  the  shimmering  plain. 

To  be  definite  as  may  be,  and  perfectly  confidential, 
Ben-Hur  found  a  certain  charm  in  Iras's  presence.  If  she 
looked  down  upon  him  from  her  high  place,  he  made  haste 
to  get  near  her ;  if  she  spoke  to  him,  his  heart  beat  out  of 
its  usual  time.  The  desire  to  be  agreeable  to  her  was  a 
constant  impulse.  Objects  on  the  way,  though  ever  so 


458  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

common,  became  interesting  the  moment  she  called  atten 
tion  to  them ;  a  black  swallow  in  the  air  pursued  by  her 
pointing  finger  went  off  in  a  halo ;  if  a  bit  of  quartz  or  a 
Hake  of  mica  was  seen  to  sparkle  in  the  drab  sand  under 
kissing  of  the  sun,  at  a  word  he  turned  aside  and  brought 
it  to  her ;  and  if  she  threw  it  away  in  disappointment,  far 
from  thinking  of  the  trouble  he  had  been  put  to,  he  was 
sorry  it  proved  so  worthless,  and  kept  a  lookout  for  some 
thing  better — a  ruby,  perchance  a  diamond.  So  the  pur 
ple  of  the  far  mountains  became  intensely  deep  and  rich  if 
she  distinguished  it  with  an  exclamation  of  praise ;  and 
when,  now  and  then,  the  curtain  of  the  houdah  fell  down, 
it  seemed  a  sudden  dulness  had  dropped  from  the  sky  be 
draggling  all  the  landscape.  Thus  disposed,  yielding  to 
the  sweet  influence,  what  shall  save  him  from  the  dangers 
there  are  in  days  of  the  close  companionship  with  the  fair 
Egyptian  incident  to  the  solitary  journey  they  were  entered 
upon  ? 

For  that  there  is  no  logic  in  love,  nor  the  least  math 
ematical  element,  it  is  simply  natural  that  she  shall  fashion 
the  result  who  has  the  wielding  of  the  influence. 

To  quicken  the  conclusion,  there  were  signs,  too,  that  she 
well  knew  the  influence  she  was  exercising  over  him.  From 
some  place  under  hand  she  had  since  morning  drawn  a  caul 
of  golden  coins,  and  adjusted  it  so  the  gleaming  strings 
fell  over  her  forehead  and  upon  her  cheeks,  ble'nding  lus 
trously  with  the  flowing  of  her  blue-black  hair.  From  the 
same  safe  deposit  she  had  also  produced  articles  of  jewelry 
— rings  for  finger  and  ear,  bracelets,  a  necklace  of  pearls — 
also,  a  shawl  embroidered  with  threads  of  fine  gold — the 
effect  of  all  which  she  softened  with  a  scarf  of  Indian  lace 
skilfully  folded  about  her  throat  and  shoulders.  And  so 
arrayed  she  plied  Ben-Hur  with  countless  coquetries  of 
speech  and  manner ;  showering  him  with  smiles ;  laugh 
ing  in  flute-like  tremolo — and  all  the  while  following  him 
with  glances,  now  melting-tender,  now  sparkling-bright.  By 
such  play  Antony  was  weaned  from  his  glory ;  yet  she 
who  wrought  his  ruin  was  really  not  half  so  beautiful  as 
this  her  countrywoman. 

And  so  to  them  the  nooning  came,  and  the  evening. 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  459 

The  sun  at  its  going  down  behind  a  spur  of  the  oM 
Bashan,  left  the  party  halted  by  a  pool  of  clear  water  of 
the  rains  out  in  the  Abilene  Desert.  There  the  tent  was 
pitched,  the  supper  eaten,  and  preparations  made  for  the 
night. 

The  second  watch  was  Ben-Hur's  ;  and  he  was  standing, 
spear  in  hand,  within  arm-reach  of  the  dozing  camel,  look 
ing  awhile  at  the  stars,  then  over  the  veiled  land.  The 
stillness  was  intense  ;  only  after  long  spells  a  warm  breath 
of  wind  would  sough  past,  but  without  disturbing  him,  for 
yet  in  thought  he  entertained  the  Egyptian,  recounting  her 
charms,  and  sometimes  debating  how  she  came  by  his  se 
crets,  the  uses  she  might  make  of  them,  and  the  course  he 
should  pursue  with  her.  And  through  all  the  debate  Love 
stood  off  but  a  little  way — a  strong  temptation,  the  stronger 
of  a  gleam  of  policy  behind.  At  the  very  moment  he  was 
most  inclined  to  yield  to  the  allurement,  a  hand  very  fair 
even  in  the  moonless  gloaming  was  laid  softly  upon  his 
shoulder.  The  touch  thrilled  him ;  he  started,  turned — 
and  she  was  there. 

"  I  thought  you  asleep,"  he  said,  presently. 

"  Sleep  is  for  old  people  and  little  children,  and  I  came 
out  to  look  at  my  friends,  the  stars  in  the  south — those  now 
holding  the  curtains  of  midnight  over  the  Nile.  But  con 
fess  yourself  surprised !" 

lie  took  the  hand  which  had  fallen  from  his  shoulder, 
and  said,  "  Well,  was  it  by  an  enemy  ?" 

"  Oh  no !  To  be  an  enemy  is  to  hate,  and  hating  is  a 
sickness  which  Isis  will  not  suffer  to  come  near  me.  She 
kissed  me,  you  should  know,  on  the  heart  when  I  was  a 
child." 

"  Your  speech  does  not  sound  in  the  least  like  your  fa 
ther's.  Are  you  not  of  his  faith  ?" 

"  I  might  have  been  " — and  she  laughed  low — "  I  might 
have  been  had  I  seen  what  he  has.  I  may  be  when  J  get 
old  like  him.  There  should  be  no  religion  for  youth,  only 
poetry  and  philosophy  ;  and  no  poetry  except  such  as  is  tbe 
inspiration  of  wine  and  mirth  and  love,  and  no  philosophy 
that  does  not  nod  excuse  for  follies  which  cannot  outlive  a 
season.  My  father's  God  is  too  awful  for  me.  I  failed  to 


460  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

find  him  in  the  Grove  of  Daphne.  He  was  never  heard  of 
as  present  in  the  atria  of  Rome.  But,  son  of  Uur,  I  have 
a  wish." 

"  A  wish  !     Where  is  he  who  could  say  it  no  ?" 

"  I  will  try  you." 

"  Tell  it  then." 

"  It  is  very  simple.     I  wish  to  help  you." 

She  drew  closer  as  she  spoke. 

He  laughed,  and  replied,  lightly,  "  O  Egypt ! — I  came 
near  saying  dear  Egypt ! — does  not  the  sphinx  abide  in 
your  country  ?" 

"  Well  ?" 

"  You  are  one  of  its  riddles.  Be  merciful,  and  give  me 
a  little  clew  to  help  me  understand  you.  In  what  do  I 
need  help  ?  And  how  can  you  help  me  ?" 

She  took  her  hand  from  him,  and,  turning  to  the  camel, 
spoke  to  it  endearingly,  and  patted  its  monstrous  head  as 
it  were  a  thing  of  beauty. 

"  0  thou  last  and  swiftest  and  stateliest  of  the  herds  of 
Job  !  Sometimes  thou,  too,  goest  stumbling,  because  the 
way  is  rough  and  stony  and  the  burden  grievous.  How 
is  it  thou  knowest  the  kind  intent  by  a  word,  and  always 
makest  answer  gratefully,  though  the  help  offered  is  from 
a  woman  ?  I  will  kiss  thee,  thou  royal  brute  !"  —  she 
stooped  and  touched  its  broad  forehead  with  her  lips,  say 
ing  immediately,  "  because  in  thy  intelligence  there  is  no 
suspicion !" 

And  Ben-IIur,  restraining  himself,  said  calmly,  "  The 
reproach  has  not  failed  its  mark,  O  Egypt !  I  seem  to 
say  thce  no ;  may  it  not  be  because  I  am  under  seal  of 
honor,  and  by  my  silence  cover  the  lives  and  fortunes  of 
others  ?" 

"  May  be  !"  she  said,  quickly.     "  It  is  so." 

He  shrank  a  step,  and  asked,  his  voice  sharp  with 
amazement,  "  What  all  knowest  thou  ?" 

She  answered,  after  a  laugh, 

"  Why  do  men  deny  that  the  senses  of  women  are 
sharper  than  theirs  ?  Your  face  has  been  under  my  eyes 
all  day.  I  had  but  to  look  at  it  to  see  you  bore  some 
weight  in  mind ;  and  to  find  the  weight,  what  had  I  to  do 


BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   C1IRIST.  461 

more  than  recall  your  debates  with  my  father?  Son  of 
Hur !" — she  lowered  her  voice  with  singular  dexterity, 
and,  going  nearer,  spoke  so  her  breath  was  warm  upon 
his  cheek — "  son  of  Hur  !  he  thou  art  going  to  find  is  to 
be  King  of  the  Jews,  is  he  not  ?" 

His  heart  beat  fast  and  hard. 

"  A  King  of  the  Jews  like  Herod,  only  greater,"  she  con 
tinued. 

lie  looked  away — into  the  night,  up  to  the  stars ;  then 
his  eyes  met  hers,  and  lingered  there  ;  and  her  breath  was 
on  his  lips,  so  near  was  she. 

"  Since  morning,"  she  said,  further,  "  we  have  been  hav 
ing  visions.  Now  if  I  tell  you  mine,  will  you  serve  me  as 
well  ?  What !  silent  still  ?" 

She  pushed  his  hand  away,  and  turned  as  if  to  go ;  but 
he  caught  her,  and  said,  eagerly,  "  Stay — stay  and  speak  !" 

She  went  back,  and  with  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder, 
leaned  against  him ;  and  he  put  his  arm  around  her,  and 
drew  her  close,  very  close ;  and  in  the  caress  was  the 
promise  she  asked. 

"  Speak,  and  tell  me  thy  visions,  O  Egypt,  dear  Egypt ! 
A  prophet — nay,  not  the  Tishbitc,  not  even  the  Lawgiver — 
could  have  refused  an  asking  of  thine.  I  am  at  thy  will. 
Be  merciful — merciful,  I  pray." 

The  entreaty  passed  apparently  unheard,  for  looking  up 
and  nestling  in  his  embrace,  she  said,  slowly, "  The  vision 
which  followed  me  was  of  magnificent  war — war  on  land 
and  sea — with  clashing  of  arms  and  rush  of  armies,  as  if 
Caesar  and  Pompey  were  come  again,  and  Octavius  and 
Antony.  A  cloud  of  dust  and  ashes  arose  and  covered 
the  world,  and  Rome  was  not  any  more ;  all  dominion  re 
turned  to  the  East ;  out  of  the  cloud  issued  another  race  of 
heroes ;  and  there  were  vaster  satrapies  and  brighter  crowns 
for  giving  away  than  were  ever  known.  And,  son  of  Jlur, 
while  the  vision  was  passing,  and  after  it  was  gone,  I  kept 
asking  myself,  'What  shall  he  not  have  who  served  the 
King  earliest  and  best  ?'  " 

Again  Ben-IIur  recoiled.  The  question  was  the  very 
question  which  had  been  with  him  all  day.  Presently  he 
fancied  he  had  the  clew  he  wanted. 


462  BEN-IIUR:  A   TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST. 

"  So,"  lie  said,  "  I  have  you  now.  The  satrapies  and 
crowns  are  the  things  to  which  you  would  help  me.  I  see, 
I  see !  And  there  never  was  such  queen  as  you  would  be, 
so  shrewd,  so  beautiful,  so  royal — never  !  But,  alas,  dear 
Egypt !  by  the  vision  as  you  show  it  me  the  prizes  are 
all  of  war,  and  you  are  but  a  woman,  though  Isis  did  kiss 
you  on  the  heart.  And  crowns  are  starry  gifts  beyond 
your  power  of  help,  unless,  indeed,  you  have  a  way  to  them 
more  certain  than  that  of  the  sword.  If  so,  O  Egypt, 
Egypt,  show  it  me,  and  I  will  walk  in  it,  if  only  for  your 
sake." 

She  removed  his  arm,  and  said,  "  Spread  your  cloak 
upon  the  sand — here,  so  I  can  rest  against  the  camel.  I 
will  sit,  and  tell  you  a  story  which  came  down  the  Nile  to 
Alexandria,  where  I  had  it." 

lie  did  as  she  said,  first  planting  the  spear  in  the  ground 
near  by. 

"  And  what  shall  I  do  ?"  he  said,  ruefully,  when  she  was 
seated.  "  In  Alexandria  is  it  customary  for  the  listeners 
to  sit  or  stand  ?" 

From  the  comfortable  place  against  the  old  domestic  she 
answered,  laughing,  "  The  audiences  of  story-tellers  are 
wilful,  and  sometimes  they  do  as  they  please." 

"Without  more  ado  he  stretched  himself  upon  the  sand, 
and  put  her  arm  about  his  neck. 

"  I  am  ready,"  he  said. 

And  directly  she  began  : 

HOW  THE  BEAUTIFUL  CAME  TO  THE  EARTH. 

"  You  must  know,  in  the  first  place,  that  Isis  was — and,  for  that 
matter,  she  may  yet  be — the  most  beautiful  of  deities ;  and  Osiris,  her 
husband,  though  wise  and  powerful,  was  sometimes  stung  with  jeal 
ousy  of  her,  for  only  in  their  loves  are  the  gods  like  mortals. 

"  The  palace  of  the  Divine  Wife  was  of  silver,  crowning  the  tallest 
mountain  in  the  moon,  and  thence  she  passed  often  to  the  sun,  in  the 
heart  of  which,  a  source  of  eternal  .light,  Osiris  kept  his  palace  of  gold 
too  shining  for  men  to  look  at. 

"  One  time — there  are  no  days  with  the  gods — while  she  was  full 
pleasantly  with  him  on  the  roof  of  the  golden  palace,  she  chanced  to 
look,  and  afar,  just  on  the  line  of  the  universe,  saw  Indra  passing  with 
an  army  of  simians,  all  borne  upon  the  backs  of  flying  eagles.  He, 
the  Friend  of  Living  Things — so  with  much  love  is  Indra  called — was 


BEN-IIUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  463 

returning  from  Iris  final  war  with  the  hideous  Rakshakas — returning 
victorious ;  and  in  his  suite  were  Rama,  the  hero,  and  Sita,  his  bride, 
who,  next  to  Isis  herself,  was  the  very  most  beautiful.  And  Isis  arose, 
and  took  off  her  girdle  of  stars,  and  waved  it  to  Sita — to  Sita,  mind 
you — waved  it  in  glad  salute.  And  instantly,  between  the  marching 
host  and  the  two  on  the  golden  roof,  a  something  as  of  night  fell,  and 
shut  out  the  view ;  but  it  was  not  night — only  the  frown  of  Osiris. 

"  It  happened  the  subject  of  his  speech  that  moment  was  such  as 
none  else  than  they  could  think  of ;  and  he  arose,  and  said,  majestical 
ly,  '  Get  thee  home.  I  will  do  the  work  myself.  To  make  a  perfectly 
happy  being  I  do  not  need  thy  help.  Get  thee  gone.' 

"  Now  Isis  had  eyes  large  as  those  of  the  white  cow  which  in  the 
temple  eats  sweet  grasses  from  the  hands  of  the  faithful  even  while 
they  say  their  prayers ;  and  her  eyes  were  the  color  of  the  cow's,  and 
quite  as  tender.  And  she  too  arose  and  said,  smiling  as  she  spoke, 
so  her  look  was  little  more  than  the  glow  of  the  moon  in  the  hazy 
harvest-month,  '  Farewell,  good  my  lord.  You  will  call  me  presently, 
I  know ;  for  without  me  you  cannot  make  the  perfectly  happy  creature 
of  which  you  were  thinking,  any  more ' — and  she  stopped  to  laugh, 
knowing  well  the  truth  of  the  saying — '  any  more,  my  lord,  than  you 
yourself  can  be  perfectly  happy  without  me.' 

"  '  We  will  see,'  he  said. 

"  And  she  went  her  way,  and  took  her  needles  and  her  chair,  and 
on  the  roof  of  the  silver  palace  sat  watching  and  knitting. 

"  And  the  will  of  Osiris,  at  labor  in  his  mighty  br-east,  was  as  the 
sound  of  the  mills  of  all  the  other  gods  grinding  at  once,  so  loud  that 
the  near  stars  rattled  like  seeds  in  a  parched  pod  ;  and  some  dropped 
out  and  were  lost.  And  while  the  sound  kept  on  she  waited  and  knit ; 
nor  lost  she  ever  a  stitch  the  while. 

"  Soon  a  spot  appeared  in  the  space  over  towards  the  sun ;  and  it 
grew  until  it  was  great  as  the  moon,  and  then  she  knew  a  world  was 
intended ;  but  when,  growing  and  growing,  at  last  it  cast  her  planet  in 
the  shade,  all  save  the  little  point  lighted  by  her  presence,  she  knew 
how  very  angry  he  was ;  yet  she  knit  away,  assured  that  the  end  would 
be  as  she  had  said. 

"  And  so  came  the  earth,  at  first  but  a  cold  gray  mass  hanging  list 
less  in  the  hollow  void.  Later  she  saw  it  separate  into  divisions ; 
here  a  plain,  there  a  mountain,  yonder  a  sea,  all  as  yet  without  a 
sparkle.  And  then,  by  a  river -bank,  something  moved;  and  she 
stopped  her  knitting  for  wonder.  The  something  arose,  and  lifted  its 
hands  to  the  sun  in  sign  of  knowledge  whence  it  had  its  being.  And 
this  First  Man  was  beautiful  to  see.  And  about  him  were  the  crea 
tions  we  call  nature — the  grass,  the  trees,  birds,  beasts,  even  the  in 
sects  and  reptiles. 

"  And  for  a  time  the  man  went  about  happy  in  his  life :  it  was  easy 
to  see  how  happy  he  was.  And  in  the  lull  of  the  sound  of  the  labor 
ing  will  Isis  heard  a  scornful  laugh,  and  presently  the  words,  blown 
across  from  the  sun, 

"  '  Thy  help,  indeed  !     Behold  a  creature  perfectly  happy  !' 


464  BEX-IIUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"And  Isis  fell  to  knitting  again,  for  she  was  patient  as  Osiris  was 
strong;  and  if  lie  could  work,  she  could  wait;  and  wait  she  did,  know 
ing  that  mere  life  is  not  enough  to  keep  anything  content. 

"  And  sure  enough.  Not  long  until  the  Divine  Wife  could  see  a 
change  in  the  man.  He  grew  listless,  and  kept  to  one  place  prone  by 
the  river,  and  looked  up  but  seldom,  and  then  always  with  a  moody 
face.  Interest  was  dying  in  him.  And  when  she  made  sure  of  it, 
even  while  she  was  saying  to  herself, '  The  creature  is  sick  of  his  be 
ing,'  there  was  a  roar  of  the  creative  will  at  work  again,  and  in  a  twink 
ling  the  earth,  theretofore  all  a  thing  of  coldest  gray,  ilamed  with  col 
ors  ;  the  mountains  swam  in  purple,  the  plains  bearing  grass  and  trees 
turned  green,  the  sea  blue,  and  the  clouds  varied  infinitely.  And  the 
man  sprang  up  and  clapped  his  hands,  for  he  was  cured  and  happy 
again. 

"  And  Isis  smiled,  and  knit  away,  saying  to  herself,  '  It  was  well 
thought,  and  will  do  a  little  while ;  but  mere  beauty  in  a  world  is  not 
enough  for  such  a  being.  My  lord  must  try  again.' 

"  With  the  last  word,  the  thunder  of  the  will  at  work  shook  the 
moon,  and,  looking,  Isis  dropped  her  knitting  and  clapped  her  hands; 
for  theretofore  everything  on  the  earth  but  the  man  had  been  fixed  to 
a  given  place ;  now  all  living,  and  much  that  was  not  living,  received 
the  gift  of  Motion.  The  birds  took  to  wing  joyously ;  beasts  great  and 
small  went  about,  each  in  its  way:  the  trees  shook  their  verdurous 
branches,  nodding  to  the  enamoured  winds ;  the  rivers  ran  to  the  seas, 
and  the  seas  tossed  in  their  beds  and  rolled  in  crested  waves,  and  with 
surging  and  ebbing  painted  the  shores  with  glistening  foam ;  and  over 
all  the  clouds  floated  like  sailed  ships  unanchored. 

"  And  the  man  rose  up  happy  as  a  child  ;  whereat  Osiris  was  pleased, 
so  that  he  shouted, '  Ha,  ha !  See  how  well  I  am  doing  without  thee!' 

"  The  good  wife  took  up  her  work,  and  answered  ever  so  quietly, 
'  It  was  well  thought,  my  lord — ever  so  well  thought — and  will  serve 
awhile.' 

"  And  as  before,  so  again.  The  sight  of  things  in  motion  became  to 
the  man  as  of  course.  The  birds  in  flight,  the  rivers  running,  the  seas 
in  tumult  of  action,  ceased  to  amuse  him,  and  he  pined  again  even 
worse. 

"And  Isis  waited,  saying  to  herself,  'Poor  creature  !  He  is  more 
wretched  than  ever.' 

"  And,  as  if  he  heard  the  thought,  Osiris  stirred,  and  the  noise  of  his 
will  shook  the  universe;  the  sun  in  its  central  seat  alone  stood  firm. 
And  Isis  looked,  but  saw  no  change  ;  then,  while  she  was  smiling,  as 
sured  that  her  lord's  last  invention  was  sped,  suddenly  the  creature 
arose,  and  seemed  to  listen ;  and  his  face  brightened,  and  he  clapped 
his  hands  for  joy,  for  Sounds  were  heard  the  first  time  on  earth — 
sounds  dissonant,  sounds  harmonious.  The  winds  murmured  in  the 
trees ;  the  birds  sang,  each  kind  a  song  of  its  own,  or  chattered  in 
speech ;  the  rivulets  running  to  the  rivers  became  so  many  harpers 
with  harps  of  silver  strings  all  tinkling  together;  and  the  rivers  run. 
ning  to  the  seas  surged  on  in  solemn  accord,  while  the  seas  beat  the 


BEN-BUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  465 

land  to  a  tune  of  thunder.  There  was  music,  music  everywhere,  and 
all  the  time ;  so  the  man  could  not  but  be  happy. 

"  Then  Isis  mused,  thinking  how  well,  how  wondrous  well,  her  lord 
was  doing;  but  presently  she  shook  her  head:  Color,  Motion,  Sound 
— and  she  repeated  them  slowly — there  was  no  element  else  of  beauty 
except  Form  and  Light,  and  to  them  the  earth  had  been  born.  Now, 
indeed,  Osiris  was  done ;  and  if  the  creature  should  again  fall  off  into 
wretchedness,  her  help  must  be  asked;  and  her  fingers  flew — two, 
three,  five,  even  ten  stitches  she  took  at  once. 

"And  the  man  was  happy  a  long  time — longer  than  ever  before; 
it  seemed,  indeed,  he  would  never  tire  again.  But  Isis  knew  better ; 
and  she  waited  and  waited,  nor  minded  the  many  laughs  flung  at  her 
from  the  sun  ;  she  waited  and  waited,  and  at  last  saw  signs  of  the  end. 
Sounds  became  familiar  to  him,  and  in  their  range,  from  the  chirruping 
of  the  cricket  under  the  roses  to  the  roar  of  the  seas  and  the  bellow 
of  the  clouds  in  storm,  there  was  not  anything  unusual.  And  he  pined 
and  sickened,  and  sought  his  place  of  moping  by  the  river,  and  at  last 
fell  down  motionless. 

"  Then  Isis  in  pity  spoke. 

"  '  My  lord,'  she  said. '  the  creature  is  dying.' 

"  But  Osiris,  though  seeing  it  all,  held  his  peace ;  he  could  do  no 
more. 

"  '  Shall  I  help  him  ?'  she  asked. 

"  Osiris  was  too  proud  to  speak. 

"  Then  Isis  took  the  last  stitch  in  her  knitting,  and  gathering  her 
work  in  a  roll  of  brilliance  flung  it  off — flung  it  so  it  fell  close  to  the 
man.  And  he,  hearing  the  sound  of  the  fall  so  near  by,  looked  up, 
and  lo  !  a  Woman — the  First  Woman — was  stooping  to  help  him ! 
She  reached  a  hand  to  him ;  he  caught  it  and  arose ;  and  nevermore 
was  miserable,  but  evermore  happy." 

"  Such,  O  son  of  Ilur !  is  the  genesis  of  the  beautiful,  as 
they  tell  it  on  the  Nile." 

She  paused. 

"  A  pretty  invention,  and  cunning,"  he  said,  directly ; 
"  but  it  is  imperfect.  What  did  Osiris  afterwards  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  replied.  "  He  called  the  Divine  Wife 
back  to  the  sun,  and  they  went  on  all  pleasantly  together, 
each  helping  the  other." 

"  And  shall  I  not  do  as  the  first  man  ?" 

He  carried  the  hand  resting  upon  his  neck  to  his  lips. 
"  In  love — in  love  !"  he  said. 

His  head  dropped  softly  into  her  lap. 

"You  will  find  the  King,"  she  said,  placing  her  other 
hand  caressingly  upon  his  head.  "  You  will  go  on  and 
30 


466  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

find  the  King  and  serve  him.  With  your  sword  you  will 
earn  his  richest  gifts  ;  and  his  best  soldier  will  be  my 
hero." 

He  turned  his  face,  and  saw  hers  close  above.  In  all  the 
sky  there  was  that  moment  nothing  so  bright  to  him  as 
her  eyes,  enshadowed  though  they  were.  Presently  he  sat 
up,  and  put  his  arms  about  her,  and  kissed  her  passionate 
ly,  saying,  "  O  Egypt,  Egypt !  If  the  King  has  crowns  in 
gift,  one  shall  be  mine ;  and  I  will  bring  it  and  put  it  here 
over  the  place  my  lips  have  marked.  You  shall  be  a  queen 
— my  queen — no  one  more  beautiful !  And  we  will  be 
ever,  ever  so  happy  !" 

"  And  you  will  tell  me  everything,  and  let  me  help  you 
in  all  i"  she  said,  kissing  him  in  return. 

The  question  chilled  his  fervor. 

"  Is  it  not  enough  that  I  love  you  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Perfect  love  means  perfect  faith,"  she  replied.  "  But 
never  mind — you  will  know  me  better." 

She  took  her  hand  from  him  and  arose. 

"  You  are  cruel,"  he  said. 

Moving  away,  she  stopped  by  the  camel,  and  touched  its 
front  face  with  her  lips. 

"  O  thou  noblest  of  thy  kind  ! — that,  because  there  is  no 
suspicion  in  thy  love." 

An  instant,  and  she  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  third  day  of  the  journey  the  party  nooned  by  the 
river  Jabbok,  where  there  were  a  hundred  or  more  men, 
mostly  of  Peraea,  resting  themselves  and  their  beasts. 
Hardly  had  they  dismounted,  before  a  man  came  to  them 
Avith  a  pitcher  of  water  and  a  bowl,  and  offered  them 
drink ;  as  they  received  the  attention  with  much  courtesy, 
he  said,  looking  at  the  camel,  "  I  am  returning  from  the 
Jordan,  where  just  now  there  are  many  people  from  dis 
tant  parts,  travelling  as  you  are,  illustrious  friend ;  but 
they  had  none  of  them  the  equal  of  your  servant  here.  A 
very  noble  animal.  May  I  ask  of  what  breed  he  is  sprung  ?" 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  467 

Balthasar  answered,  and  sought  his  rest ;  but  Ben-IIur, 
more  curious,  took  up  the  remark. 

"  At  what  place  on  the  river  are  the  people  ?"  he  asked. 

"  At  Bethabara." 

"  It  used  to  be  a  lonesome  ford,"  said  Ben-Hur.  "  I 
cannot  understand  how  it  can  have  become  of  such  in 
terest." 

"  I  see,"  the  stranger  replied ;  "  you,  too,  are  from  abroad, 
and  have  not  heard  the  good  tidings." 

"  What  tidings  ?" 

"  Well,  a  man  has  appeared  out  of  the  wilderness — a  very 
holy  man — with  his  mouth  full  of  strange  words,  which 
take  hold  of  all  who  hear  them.  He  calls  himself  John 
the  Nazarite,  son  of  Zacharias,  and  says  he  is  the  messen 
ger  sent  before  the  Messiah." 

Even  Iras  listened  closely  while  the  man  continued : 

"  They  say  of  this  John  that  he  has  spent  his  life  from 
childhood  in  a  cave  down  by  En-Gedi,  praying  and  living 
more  strictly  than  the  Essenes.  Crowds  go  to  hear  him 
preach,  I  went  to  hear  him  with  the  rest." 

"  Have  all  these,  your  friends,  been  there  ?" 

"  Most  of  them  are  going ;  a  few  are  coming  away." 

"  What  does  he  preach  ?" 

"  A  new  doctrine — one  never  before  taught  in  Israel,  as 
all  say.  He  calls  it  repentance  and  baptism.  The  rabbis 
do  not  know  what  to  make  of  him ;  nor  do  we.  Some 
have  asked  him  if  he  is  the  Christ,  others  if  he  is  Elias ; 
but  to  them  all  he  has  the  answer, '  I  am  the  voice  of  one 
crying  in  the  wilderness,  Make  straight  the  way  of  the 
Lord !" 

At  this  point  the  man  was  called  away  by  his  friends ; 
as  he  was  going,  Balthasar  spoke. 

"  Good  stranger  !"  he  said,  tremulously,  "  tell  us  if  we 
shall  find  the  preacher  at  the  place  you  left  him." 

"  Yes,  at  Bethabara." 

"  Who  should  this  Nazarite  be  ?"  said  Ben-IIur  to  Iras, 
"  if  not  the  herald  of  our  King  ?" 

In  so  short  a  time  he  had  come  to  regard  the  daughter 
as  more  interested  in  the  mysterious  personage  he  was 
looking  for  than  the  aged  father !  Nevertheless,  the  latter 


468  BEN-I1UR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

with  a  positive  glow  in  his  sunken  eyes  half  arose,  and 
said, 

"  Let  us  make  haste.     I  am  not  tired." 

They  turned  away  to  help  the  slave. 

There  was  little  conversation  between  the  three  at  the 
stopping-place  for  the  night  west  of  Ramoth-Gilead. 

"  Let  us  arise  early,  son  of  Hur,"  said  the  old  man. 
"  The  Saviour  may  come,  and  we  not  there." 

"  The  King  cannot  be  far  behind  his  herald,"  Iras  whis 
pered,  as  she  prepared  to  take  her  place  on  the  camel. 

"  To-morrow  we  will  see  !"  Ben-Hur  replied,  kissing  her 
hand. 

Next  day  about  the  third  hour,  out  'of  the  pass  through 
which,  skirting  the  base  of  Mount  Gilead,  they  had  jour 
neyed  since  leaving  Ramoth,  the  party  came  upon  the  bar 
ren  steppe  east  of  the  sacred  river.  Opposite  them  they 
saw  the  upper  limit  of  the  old  palm  lands  of  Jericho,  stretch 
ing  off  to  the  hill-country  of  Judea.  Ben-Hur's  blood  ran 
quickly,  for  he  knew  the  ford  was  close  at  hand. 

"  Content  you,  good  Balthasar,"  he  said  ;  "  we  are  almost 
there." 

The  driver  quickened  the  camel's  pace.  Soon  they 
caught  sight  of  booths  and  tents  and  tethered  animals ; 
and  then  of  the  river,  and  a  multitude  collected  down  close 
by  the  bank,  and  yet  another  multitude  on  the  western 
shore.  Knowing  that  the  preacher  was  preaching,  they 
made  greater  haste  ;  yet,  as  they  were  drawing  near,  sud 
denly  there  was  a  commotion  in  the  mass,  and  it  began  to 
break  up  and  disperse. 

They  were  too  late  ! 

"  Let  us  stay  here,"  said  Ben-Hur  to  Balthasar,  who  was 
wringing  his  hands.  "  The  Nazarite  may  come  this  way." 

The  people  were  too  intent  upon  what  they  had  heard, 
and  too  busy  in  discussion,  to  notice  the  new-comers. 
When  some  hundreds  were  gone  by,  and  it  seemed  the  op- 
portunity  to  so  much  as  see  the  Nazarite  was  lost  to  the 
latter,  up  the  river  not  far  away  they  beheld  a  person  com 
ing  towards  them  of  such  singular  appearance  they  forgot 
all  else. 

Outwardly  the  man  was  rude  and  uncouth,  even  savage. 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  469 

Over  a  thin,  gaunt  visage  of  the  hue  of  brown  parchment, 
over  his  shoulders  and  down  his  back  below  the  middle,  in 
witch-like  locks,  fell  a  covering  of  sun-scorched  hair.  His 
eyes  were  burning-bright.  All  his  right  side  was  naked, 
and  of  the  color  of  his  face,  and  quite  as  meagre ;  a  shirt 
of  the  coarsest  camel's  hair — coarse  as  Bedouin  tent-cloth — 
clothed  the  rest  of  his  person  to  the  knees,  being  gathered 
at  the  waist  by  a  broad  girdle  of  untanned  leather.  His 
feet  were  bare.  A  scrip,  also  of  untanned  leather,  was 
fastened  to  the  girdle.  He  used  a  knotted  staff  to  help 
him  forward.  His  movement  was  quick,  decided,  and 
strangely  watchful.  Every  little  while  he  tossed  the  un 
ruly  hair  from  his  eyes,  and  peered  round  as  if  searching 
for  somebody. 

The  fair  Egyptian  surveyed  the  son  of  the  Desert  with 
surprise,  not  to  say  disgust.  Presently,  raising  the  curtain 
of  the  houdah,  she  spoke  to  Ben-IIur,  who  sat  his  horse 
near  by. 

"  Is  that  the  herald  of  thy  King?" 

"  It  is  the  Nazarite,"  he  replied,  without  looking  up. 

In  truth,  he  was  himself  more  than  disappointed.  De 
spite  his  familiarity  with  the  ascetic  colonists  in  En-Gedi 
— their  dress,  their  indifference  to  all  worldly  opinion,  their 
constancy  to  vows  which  gave  them  over  to  every  imagin 
able  suffering  of  body,  and  separated  them  from  others  of 
their  kind  as  absolutely  as  if  they  had  not  been  born  like 
them — and  notwithstanding  he  had  been  notified  on  the 
way  to  look  for  a  Nazarite  whose  simple  description  of 
himself  was  a  Voice  from  the  Wilderness — still  Ben-Hur's 
dream  of  the  King  who  was  to  be  so  great  and  do  so  much 
had  colored  all  his  thought  of  him,  so  that  he  never  doubt 
ed  to  find  in  the  forerunner  some  sign  or  token  of  the 
goodliness  and  royalty  he  was  announcing.  Gazing  at  the 
savage  figure  before  him,  the  long  trains  of  courtiers  whom 
he  had  been  used  to  see  in  the  thermae  and  imperial  cor 
ridors  at  Rome  arose  before  him,  forcing  a  comparison. 
Shocked,  shamed,  bewildered,  he  could  only  answer, 

"  It  is  the  Nazarite." 

With  Balthasar  it  was  very  different.  The  ways  of  God, 
he  knew,  were  not  as  men  would  have  them.  He  had  seen 


470  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

the  Saviour  a  child  in  a  manger,  and  was  prepared  by  his 
faith  for  the  rude  and  simple  in  connection  with  the  Di 
vine  reappearance.  So  he  kept  his  seat,  his  hands  crossed 
upon  his  breast,  his  lips  moving  in  prayer,  lie  was  not 
expecting  a  king. 

In  this  time  of  such  interest  to  the  new-comers,  and  in 
which  they  were  so  differently  moved,  another  man  had 
been  sitting  by  himself  on  a  stone  at  the  edge  of  the  river, 
thinking  yet,  probably,  of  the  sermon  he  had  been  hearing. 
Now,  however,  he  arose,  and  walked  slowly  up  from  the 
shore,  in  a  course  to  take  him  across  the  line  the  Nazarite 
was  pursuing  and  bring  him  near  the  camel. 

And  the  two — the  preacher  and  the  stranger — kept  on 
until  they  came,  the  former  within  twenty  yards  of  the  ani 
mal,  the  latter  within  ten  feet.  Then  the  preacher  stopped, 
and  flung  the  hair  from  his  eyes,  looked  at  the  stranger, 
threw  his  hands  up  as  a  signal  to  all  the  people  in  sight ; 
and  they  also  stopped,  each  in  the  pose  of  a  listener ;  and 
when  the  hush  was  perfect,  slowly  the  staff  in  the  Nazarite's 
right  hand  came  down  and  pointed  to  the  stranger. 

All  those  who  before  were  but  listeners  became  watchers 
also. 

At  the  same  instant,  under  the  same  impulse,  Balthasar 
and  Ben-Hur  fixed  their  gaze  upon  the  man  pointed  out, 
and  both  took  the  same  impression,  only  in  different  de 
gree.  He  was  moving  slowly  towards  them  in  a  clear  space 
a  little  to  their  front,  a  form  slightly  above  the  average  in 
stature,  and  slender,  even  delicate.  His  action  was  calm 
and  deliberate,  like  that  habitual  to  men  much  given  to 
serious  thought  upon  grave  subjects ;  and  it  well  became 
his  costume,  which  was  an  under-garment  full-sleeved  and 
reaching  to  the  ankles,  and  an  outer  robe  called  the  talith  ; 
on  his  left  arm  he  carried  the  usual  handkerchief  for  the 
head,  the  red  fillet  swinging  loose  down  his  side.  Except 
the  fillet  and  a  narrow  border  of  blue  at  the  lower  edge  of 
the  talith,  his  attire  was  of  linen  yellowed  with  dust  and 
road-stains.  Possibly  the  exception  should  be  extended  to 
the  tassels,  which  were  blue  and  white,  as  prescribed  by 
law  for  rabbis.  His  sandals  were  of  the  simplest  kind.  He 
was  without  scrip  or  girdle  or  staff. 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  471 

These  points  of  appearance,  however,  the  three  beholders 
observed  briefly,  and  rather  as  accessories  to  the  head  and 
face  of  the  man,  which  —  especially  the  latter  —  were  the 
real  sources  of  the  spell  they  caught  in  common  with  all 
who  stood  looking  at  him. 

The  head  was  open  to  the  cloudless  light,  except  as  it 
was  draped  with  hair  long  and  slightly  waved,  and  parted 
in  the  middle,  and  auburn  in  tint,  with  a  tendency  to  red 
dish  golden  where  most  strongly  touched  by  the  sun.  Un 
der  a  broad,  low  forehead,  under  black  well-arched  brows, 
beamed  eyes  dark-blue  and  large,  and  softened  to  exceed 
ing  tenderness  by  lashes  of  the  great  length  sometimes 
seen  on  children,  but  seldom,  if  ever,  on  men.  As  to  the 
other  features,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  decide  whether 
they  were  Greek  or  Jewish.  The  delicacy  of  the  nostrils 
and  mouth  was  unusual  to  the  latter  type ;  and  when  it 
was  taken  into  account  with  the  gentleness  of  the  eyes,  the 
pallor  of  the  complexion,  the  fine  texture  of  the  hair,  and 
the  softness  of  the  beard,  which  fell  in  waves  over  his 
throat  to  his  breast,  never  a  soldier  but  would  have  laughed 
at  him  in  encounter,  never  a  woman  who  would  not  have 
confided  in  him  at  sight,  never  a  child  that  would  not, 
with  quick  instinct,  have  given  him  its  hand  and  whole 
artless  trust ;  nor  might  any  one  have  said  he  was  not 
beautiful. 

The  features,  it  should  be  further  said,  were  ruled  by  a 
certain  expression  which,  as  the  viewer  chose,  might  with 
equal  correctness  have  been  called  the  effect  of  intelligence, 
love,  pity,  or  sorrow ;  though,  in  better  speech,  it  was  a 
blending  of  them  all  —  a  look  easy  to  fancy  as  a  mark  of 
a  sinless  soul  doomed  to  the  sight  and  understanding  of  the 
utter  sinfulness  of  those  among  whom  it  was  passing;  yet 
withal  no  one  could  have  observed  the  face  with  a  thought 
of  weakness  in  the  man ;  so,  at  least,  would  not  they  who 
know  that  the  qualities  mentioned — love,  sorrow,  pity — are 
the  results  of  a  consciousness  of  strength  to  bear  suffering 
oftener  than  strength  to  do  ;  such  has  been  the  might  of 
martyrs  and  devotees  and  the  myriads  written  down  in 
saintly  calendars.  And  such,  indeed,  was  the  air  of  this 
one. 


472  BBN-HUBi   A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

,  Slowly  he  drew  near — nearer  the  three. 

Now  Ben-Hur,  mounted  and  spear  in  hand,  was  an  object 
to  claim  the  glance  of  a  king ;  yet  the  eyes  of  the  man  ap 
proaching  were  all  the  time  raised  above  him — and  not  to 
Iras,  whose  loveliness  has  been  so  often  remarked,  but  to 
Balthasar,  the  old  and  unserviceable. 

The  hush  was  profound. 

Presently  the  Nazarite,  still  pointing  with  his  staff,  cried, 
in  a  loud  voice, 

"  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  takcth  away  the  sin 
of  the  world !" 

The  many  standing  still,  arrested  by  the  action  of  the 
speaker,  and  listening  for  what  might  follow,  were  struck 
with  awe  by  words  so  strange  and  past  their  understand 
ing  ;  upon  Balthasar  they  were  overpowering.  He  was 
there  to  see  once  more  the  Redeemer  of  men.  The  faith 
which  had  brought  him  the  singular  privileges  of  the  time 
long  gone  abode  yet  in  his  heart ;  and  if  now  it  gave  him 
a  power  of  vision  above  that  of  his  fellows — a  power  to  see 
and  know  him  for  whom  he  was  looking — better  than  call 
ing  the  power  a  miracle,  let  it  be  thought  of  as  the  faculty 
of  a  soul  not  yet  entirely  released  from  the  divine  rela 
tions  to  which  it  had  been  formerly  admitted,  or  as  the  fit 
ting  reward  of  a  life  in  that  age  so  without  examples  of  holi 
ness — a  life  itself  a  miracle.  The  ideal  of  his  faith  was 
before  him,  perfect  in  face,  form,  dress,  action,  age ;  and  he 
was  in  its  view,  and  the  view  was  recognition.  Ah,  now 
if  something  should  happen  to  identify  the  stranger  be 
yond  all  doubt. 

And  that  Avas  what  did  happen. 

Exactly  at  the  fitting  moment,  as  if  to  assure  the  trem 
bling  Egyptian,  the  Xazarite  repeated  the  outcry. 

"  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
the  world !" 

Balthasar  fell  upon  his  knees.  For  him  there  was  no  need 
of  explanation  ;  and  as  if  the  Nazarite  knew  it,  he  turned 
to  those  more  immediately  about  him  staring  in  wonder, 
and  continued : 

"  This  is  he  of  whom  I  said,  After  me  cometh  a  man 
which  is  preferred  before  me  ;  for  he  was  before  me.  And 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  473 

I  knew  him  not :  but  that  he  should  be  manifest-to  Israel, 
therefore  am  I  come  baptizing  with  water.  I  saw  the  Spirit 
descending  from  heaven  like  a  dove,  and  it  abode  upon 
him.  And  I  knew  him  not :  but  he  that  sent  me  to  bap 
tize  with  water,  the  same  said  unto  me,  Upon  whom  thou 
shalt  see  the  Spirit  descending  and  remaining  on  him,  the 
same  is  he  which  baptizeth  with  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  I 
saw  and  bare  record,  that  this  " — he  paused,  his  staff  still 
pointing  at  the  stranger  in  the  white  garments,  as  if  to 
give  a  more  absolute  certainty  to  both  his  words  and  the 
conclusions  intended — "  I  bare  record,  that  this  is  the  SON 
OF  GOD  !" 

"  It  is  he,  it  is  he  !"  Balthasar  cried,  with  upraised  tear 
ful  eyes.  Next  moment  he  sank  down  insensible. 

In  this  time,  it  should  be  remembered,  Ben-Hur  was 
studying  the  face  of  the  stranger,  though  with  an  interest 
entirely  different.  He  was  not  insensible  to  its  purity  of 
feature,  and  its  thoughtfulncss,  tenderness,  humility,  and 
holiness  ;  but  just  then  there  was  room  in  his  mind  for  but 
one  thought — Who  is  this  man  ?  And  what  ?  Messiah  or 
king  ?  Never  was  apparition  more  unroyal.  Nay,  looking 
at  that  calm,  benignant  countenance,  the  very  idea  of  war 
and  conquest,  and  lust  of  dominion,  smote  him  like  a  prof 
anation.  He  said,  as  if  speaking  to  liis  own  heart,  Bal 
thasar  must  be  right  and  Simonides  wrong.  This  man  has 
not  come  to  rebuild  the  throne  of  Solomon  ;  he  has  neither 
the  nature  nor  the  genius  of  Herod ;  king  he  may  be,  but 
not  of  another  and  greater  than  Rome. 

It  should  be  understood  now  that  this  was  not  a  conclu 
sion  with  Ben-Hur,  but  an  impression  merely  ;  and  while 
it  was  forming,  while  yet  he  gazed  at  the  wonderful  counte 
nance,  his  memory  began  to  throe  and  struggle.  "  Surely," 
he  said  to  himself,  "  I  have  seen  the  man ;  but  where  and 
when  ?"  That  the  look,  so  calm,  so  pitiful,  so  loving,  had 
somewhere  in  a  past  time  beamed  upon  him  as  that  mo 
ment  it  was  beaming  upon  Balthasar  became  an  assurance. 
Faintly  at  first,  at  last  a  clear  light,  a  burst  of  sunshine,  the 
scene  by  the  well  at  Nazareth  what  time  the  Roman  guard 
was  dragging  him  to  the  galleys  returned,  and  all  his  being 
thrilled.  Those  hands  had  helped  him  Avhen  he  was  per- 


474  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

ishing.  The  face  was  one  of  the  pictures  he  had  carried 
in  mind  ever  since.  In  the  effusion  of  feeling  excited,  the 
explanation  of  the  preacher  was  lost  by  him,  all  but  the 
last  words — words  so  marvellous  that  the  world  yet  rings 
with  them : 

"  —this  is  the  SON  OF  GOD  !" 

Ben-Hur  leaped  from  his  horse  to  render  homage  to  his 
benefactor ;  but  Iras  cried  to  him,  "  Help,  son  of  Hur,  help, 
or  my  father  will  die  !" 

He  stopped,  looked  back,  then  hurried  to  her  assistance. 
She  gave  him  a  cup ;  and  leaving  the  slave  to  bring  the 
camel  to  its  knees,  he  ran  to  the  river  for  water.  The 
stranger  was  gone  when  he  came  back. 

At  last  Balthasar  was  restored  to  consciousness.  Stretch 
ing  forth  his  hands,  he  asked  feebly,  "  Where  is  he  ?" 

""  Who  2"  asked  Iras. 

An  intense  instant  interest  shone  upon  the  good  man's 
face,  as  if  a  last  wish  had  been  gratified,  and  he  answered, 

"  He — the  Redeemer — the  Son  of  God,  whom  I  have 
seen  again." 

"  Believest  thou  so  ?"  Iras  asked  in  a  low  voice  of  Ben- 
Hur. 

"  The  time  is  full  of  wonders ;  let  us  wait,"  was  all  he 
said. 

And  next  day  while  the  three  were  listening  to  him,  the 
Nazarite  broke  off  in  mid-speech,  saying  reverently,  "  Be 
hold  the  Lamb  of  God  !" 

Looking  to  where  he  pointed,  they  beheld  the  stranger 
again.  As  Ben-Hur  surveyed  the  slender  figure,  and  holy 
beautiful  countenance  compassionate  to  sadness,  a  new  idea 
broke  upon  him. 

"  Balthasar  is  right — so  is  Simonides.  May  not  the  Re 
deemer  be  a  king  also  ?" 

And  he  asked  one  at  his  side,  "  Who  is  the  man  walking 
yonder?" 

The  other  laughed  mockingly,  and  replied, 

"  He  is  the  son  of  a  carpenter  over  in  Nazareth." 


BOOK  EIGHTH. 


•'  Who  could  resist  ?     Who  in  this  universe  ? 
She  did  so  breathe  ambrosia,  so  immerse 
My  fine  existence  in  a  golden  clime. 
She  took  me  like  a  child  of  suckling-time, 
And  cradled  me  in  roses.     Thus  condemn'd, 
The  current  of  my  former  life  WHS  stemm'd, 
And  to  this  arbitrary  queen  of  sense 
I  bow'd  a  tranced  vassal." — KEATS,  Endymion. 

"  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life." 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  ESTHER — Esther !  Speak  to  the  servant  below  that  he 
may  bring  me  a  cup  of  water." 

"  Would  you  not  rather  have  wine,  father  ?" 

"  Let  him  bring  both." 

This  was  in  the  summer-house  upon  the  roof  of  the  old 
palace  of  the  Hurs  of  Jerusalem.  From  the  parapet  over 
looking  the  court-yard  Esther  called  to  a  man  in  waiting 
there ;  at  the  same  moment  another  man-servant  came  up 
and  saluted  respectfully. 

"  A  package  for  the  master,"  he  said,  giving  her  a  letter 
enclosed  in  linen  cloth,  tied  and  sealed. 

For  the  satisfaction  of  the  reader,  we  stop  to  say  that  it 
is  the  twenty-first  day  of  March,  nearly  three  years  after 
the  annunciation  of  the  Christ  at  Bethabara. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Malluch,  acting  for  Ben-Hur,  who 
could  not  longer  endure  the  emptiness  and  decay  of  his 
father's  house,  had  bought  it  from  Pontius  Pilate  ;  and,  in 
process  of  repair,  gates,  courts,  lewcns,  stairways,  terraces, 


476  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

rooms,  and  roof  had  been  cleansed  and  thoroughly  re 
stored  ;  not  only  was  there  no  reminder  left  of  the  tragic 
circumstances  so  ruinous  to  the  family,  but  the  refurnish- 
ment  was  in  a  style  richer  than  before.  At  every  point, 
indeed,  a  visitor  was  met  by  evidences  of  the  higher  tastes 
acquired  by  the  young  proprietor  during  his  years  of  resi 
dence  in  the  villa  by  Misenum  and  in  the  Roman  capital. 

Now  it  should  not  be  inferred  from  this  explanation  that 
Ben-Hur  had  publicly  assumed  ownership  of  the  property. 
In  his  opinion,  the  hour  for  that  was  not  yet  come.  Neither 
had  he  yet  taken  his  proper  name.  Passing  the  time  in 
the  labors  of  preparation  in  Galilee,  he  waited  patiently 
the  action  of  the  Nazarene,  who  became  daily  more  and 
more  a  mystery  to  him,  and  by  prodigies  done,  often  before 
his  eyes,  kept  him  in  a  state  of  anxious  doubt  both  as  to 
his  character  and  mission.  Occasionally  he  came  up  to  the 
Holy  City,  stopping  at  the  paternal  house ;  always,  how 
ever,  as  a  stranger  and  a  guest. 

These  visits  of  Ben-IIur,  it  should  also  be  observed,  were 
far  more  than  mere  rest  from  labor.  Balthasar  and  Iras 
made  their  home  in  the  palace ;  and  the  charm  of  the 
daughter  was  still  upon  him  with  all  its  original  freshness, 
while  the  father,  though  feebler  in  body,  held  him  an  un 
flagging  listener  to  speeches  of  astonishing  power,  urging 
the  divinity  of  the  wandering  miracle-worker  of  whom  they 
were  all  so  expectant. 

As  to  Simonides  and  Esther,  they  had  arrived  from  An- 
tioch  only  a  few  days  before  this  their  reappearance — a 
wearisome  journey  to  the  merchant,  borne,  as  he  had  been, 
in  a  palanquin  swung  between  two  camels,  which,  in  their 
careening,  did  not  always  keep  the  same  step.  But  now 
that  he  was  come,  the  good  man,  it  seemed,  could  not  see 
enough  of  his  native  land.  He  delighted  in  the  perch  upon 
the  roof,  and  spent  most  of  his  day  hours  there  seated  in 
an  arm-chair,  the  duplicate  of  that  one  kept  for  him  in  the 
cabinet  over  the  store-house  by  the  Orontes.  In  the  shade 
of  the  summer-house  he  could  drink  fully  of  the  inspiring 
air  lying  lightly  upon  the  familiar  hills ;  he  could  better 
watch  the  sun  rise,  run  its  course,  and  set  as  it  used  to  in 
the  far-gone,  not  a  habit  lost ;  and  with  Esther  by  him  it 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE    CHRIST.  477 

was  so  much  easier  up  there  close  to  the  sky,  to  bring  back 
the  other  Esther,  his  love  in  youth,  his  wife,  dearer  grow 
ing  with  the  passage  of  years.  And  yet  he  was  not  un 
mindful  of  business.  Every  day  a  messenger  brought  him 
a  despatch  from  Sanballat,  in  charge  of  the  big  commerce 
behind ;  and  every  day  a  despatch  left  him  for  Sanballat 
with  directions  of  such  minuteness  of  detail  as  to  exclude 
all  judgment  save  his  own,  and  all  chances  except  those  the 
Almighty  has  refused  to  submit  to  the  most  mindful  of  men. 

As  Esther  started  in  return  to  the  summer-house,  the 
sunlight  fell  softly  upon  the  dustless  roof,  showing  her  a 
woman  now — small,  graceful  in  form,  of  regular  features, 
rosy  with  youth  and  health,  bright  with  intelligence,  beau 
tiful  with  the  outshining  of  a  devoted  nature — a  woman  to 
be  loved  because  loving  was  a  habit  of  life  irrepressible 
with  her. 

She  looked  at  the  package  as  she  turned,  paused,  looked 
at  it  a  second  time  more  closely  than  at  first ;  and  the 
blood  rose  reddening  her  cheeks — the  seal  was  Ben-Hur's. 
With  quickened  steps  she  hastened  on. 

Simonides  held  the  package  a  moment  while  he  also  in 
spected  the  seal.  Breaking  it  open,  he  gave  her  the  roll 
it  contained. 

"  Read,"  he  said. 

His  eyes  were  upon  her  as  he  spoke,  and  instantly  a 
troubled  expression  fell  upon  his  own  face. 

"  You  know  who  it  is  from,  I  see,  Esther." 

"  Yes — from — our  master." 

Though  the  manner  was  halting,  she  met  his  gaze  with 
modest  sincerity.  Slowly  his  chin  sank  into  the  roll  of 
flesh  puffed  out  under  it  like  a  cushion. 

"  You  love  him,  Esther,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered. 

"  Have  you  thought  well  of  what  you  do  ?" 

"  I  have  tried  not  to  think  of  him,  father,  except  as  the 
master  to  whom  I  am  dutifully  bound.  The  effort  has 
not  helped  me  to  strength." 

"  A  good  girl,  a  good  girl,  even  as  thy  mother  was,"  he 
said,  dropping  into  reverie,  from  which  she  roused  him  by 
unrolling  the  paper. 


478  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

| 

"The  Lord  forgive  me,  but — but  thy  love  might  not 
have  been  vainly  given  had  I  kept  fast  hold  of  all  I  had,  as 
I  might  have  done — such  power  is  there  in  money !" 

"  It  would  have  been  worse  for  me  had  you  done  so,  fa 
ther  ;  for  then  I  had  been  unworthy  a  look  from  him,  and 
without  pride  in  you.  Shall  I  not  read  now  ?" 

"  In  a  moment,"  he  said.  "  Let  me,  for  your  sake,  my 
child,  show  you  the  worst.  Seeing  it  with  me  may  make 
it  less  terrible  to  you.  His  love,  Esther,  is  all  be 
stowed." 

"  I  know  it,"  she  said,  calmly. 

"  The  Egyptian  has  him  in  her  net,"  he  continued.  -  "  She 
has  the  cunning  of  her  race,  with  beauty  to  help  her — 
much  beauty,  great  cunning ;  but,  like  her  race  again,  no 
heart.  The  daughter  who  despises  her  father  will  bring 
her  husband  to  grief." 

"  Does  she  that  ?" 

Simonides  went  on : 

"  Balthasar  is  a  wise  man  who  has  been  wonderfully  fa 
vored  for  a  Gentile,  and  his  faith  becomes  him ;  yet  she 
makes  a  jest  of  it.  I  heard  her  say,  speaking  of  him  yes 
terday,  '  The  follies  of  youth  are  excusable ;  nothing  is  ad 
mirable  in  the  aged  except  wisdom,  and  when  that  goes 
from  them,  they  should  die.'  A  cruel  speech,  tit  for  a  Ro 
man.  I  applied  it  to  myself,  knowing  a  feebleness  like  her 
father's  will  come  to  me  also — nay,  it  is  not  far  off.  But 
you,  Esther,  will  never  say  of  me — no,  never — '  It  were  bet 
ter  he  were  dead.'  No,  your  mother  was  a  daughter  of 
Judah." 

With  half-formed  tears,  she  kissed  him,  and  said,  "  I 
am  my  mother's  child." 

"  Yes,  and  my  daughter — my  daughter,  who  is  to  me  all 
the  Temple  was  to  Solomon." 

After  a  silence,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  and 
resumed  :  "  When  he  has  taken  the  Egyptian  to  wife,  Es 
ther,  lie  will  think  of  you  with  repentance  and  much  call 
ing  of  the  spirit ;  for  at  last  he  will  awake  to  find  himself 
but  the  minister  of  her  bad  ambition.  Rome  is  the  centre 
of  all  her  dreams.  To  her  he  is  the  son  of  Arrius  the 
duumvir,  not  the  son  of  Hur,  Prince  of  Jerusalem." 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  479 

Esther  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  the  effect  of  these 
words. 

"  Save  him,  father  !  It  is  not  too  late  !"  she  said,  en- 
treatingly. 

He  answered,  with  a  dubious  smile,  "A  man  drowning 
may  be  saved ;  not  so  a  man  in  love." 

"  But  you  have  influence  with  him.  He  is  alone  in  the 
world.  Show  him  his  danger.  Tell  him  what  a  woman 
she  is." 

"  That  might  save  him  from  her.  Would  it  give  him  to 
you,  Esther?  No,"  and  his  brows  fell  darkly  over  his  eyes, 
"  I  am  a  servant,  as  my  fathers  were  for  generations ;  yet 
I  could  not  say  to  him, '  Lo,  master,  my  daughter !  She  is 
fairer  than  the  Egyptian,  and  loves  thee  better !'  I  have 
caught  too  much  from  years  of  liberty  and  direction.  The 
words  would  blister  my  tongue.  The  stones  upon  the  old 
hills  yonder  would  turn  in  their  beds  for  shame  when  I  go 
out  to  them.  No,  by  the  patriarchs,  Esther,  I  would  rather 
lay  us  both  with  your  mother  to  sleep  as  she  sleeps !" 

A  blush  burned  Esther's  whole  face. 

"  I  did  not  mean  you  to  tell  him  so,  father.  I  was  con 
cerned  for  him  alone — for  his  happiness,  not  mine.  Be 
cause  I  have  dared  love  him,  I  shall  keep  myself  worthy 
his  respect ;  so  only  can  I  excuse  my  folly.  Let  me  read 
his  letter  now." 

"  Yes,  read  it." 

She  began  at  once,  in  haste  to  conclude  the  distasteful 
subject. 

"  Nisan,  8th  day. 

"  On  the  road  from  Galilee  to  Jerusalem. 

"  The  Nazarene  is  on  the  way  also.  With  him,  though  without  his 
knowledge,  I  am  bringing  a  full  legion  of  mine.  A  second  legion  fol 
lows.  The  Passover  will  excuse  the  multitude.  He  said  upon  setting 
out, '  We  will  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  and  all  things  that  are  written  by 
the  prophets  concerning  me  shall  be  accomplished.' 

"  Our  waiting  draws  to  an  end. 

"  In  haste. 

"Peace  to  thee,  Simonides.  BEN-HUR." 

Esther  returned  the  letter  to  her  father,  wh^le  a  choking 
sensation  gathered  in  her  throat.  There  was  not  a  word 
in  the  missive  for  her — not  even  in  the  salutation  had  she 


480  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST. 

a  share — and  it  would  have  been  so  easy  to  have  written 
"  and  to  thine,  peace."  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she 
felt  the  smart  of  a  jealous  sting. 

"  The  eighth  day,"  said  Simonides,  "the  eighth  day  ;  and 
this,  Esther,  this  is  the — " 

"  The  ninth,"  she  replied. 

"  Ah,  then,  they  may  be  in  Bethany  now." 

"  And  possibly  we  may  see  him  to-night,"  she  added, 
pleased  into  momentary  forgetfulness. 

"  It  may  be,  it  may  be  !  To-morrow  is  the  Feast  of  Un 
leavened  Bread,  and  he  may  wish  to  celebrate  it ;  so  may 
the  Nazarene ;  and  we  may  see  him — we  may  see  both  of 
them,  Esther." 

At  this  point  the  servant  appeared  with  the  wine  and 
water.  Esther  helped  her  father,  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
service  Iras  came  upon  the  roof. 

To  the  Jewess  the  Egyptian  never  appeared  so  very, 
very  beautiful  as  at  that  moment.  Her  gauzy  garments 
fluttered  about  her  like  a  little  cloud  of  mist ;  her  forehead, 
neck,  and  arms  glittered  with  the  massive  jewelry  so  affected 
by  her  people.  Her  countenance  was  suffused  with  pleasure. 
She  moved  with  buoyant  steps,  and  self-conscious,  though 
without  affectation.  Esther  at  the  sight  shrank  within  her 
self,  and  nestled  closer  to  her  father. 

"  Peace  to  you,  Simonides,  and  to  the  pretty  Esther 
peace,"  said  Iras,  inclining  her  head  to  the  latter.  "  You 
remind  me,  good  master — if  I  may  say  it  without  offence 
— you  remind  me  of  the  priests  in  Persia  who  climb  their 
temples  at  the  decline  of  day  to  send  prayers  after  the  de 
parting  sun.  Is  there  anything  in  the  worship  you  do  not 
know,  let  me  call  my  father.  He  is  Magian-bred." 

"  Fair  Egyptian,"  the  merchant  replied,  nodding  with 
grave  politeness,  "  your  father  is  a  good  man  who  would 
not  be  offended  if  he  knew  I  told  you  his  Persian  lore  is 
the  least  part  of  his  wisdom." 

Iras's  lip  curled  slightly. 

"  To  speak  like  a  philosopher,  as  you  invite  me,"  she 
said,  "  the  least  part  always  implies  a  greater.  Let  me  ask 
what  you  esteem  the  greater  part  of  the  rare  quality  you 
are  pleased  to  attribute  to  him." 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  481 

Simonidcs  turned  upon  her  somewhat  sternly. 

"Pure  wisdom  always  directs  itself  towards  God;  the 
purest  wisdom  is  knowledge  of  God ;  and  no  man  of  my 
acquaintance  has  it  in  higher  degree,  or  makes  it  more 
manifest  in  speech  and  act,  than  the  good  Balthasar." 

To  end  the  parley,  lie  raised  the  cup  and  drank. 

The  Egyptian  turned  to  Esther  a  little  testily. 

"  A  man  who  has  millions  in  store,  and  fleets  of  ships 
at  sea,  cannot  discern  in  what  simple  women  like  us  find 
amusement.  Let  us  leave  him.  By  the  Avail  yonder  we 
can  talk." 

They  went  to  the  parapet  then,  stopping  at  the  place 
where,  years  before,  Ben-IIur  loosed  the  broken  tile  upon 
the  head  of  Gratus. 

"  You  have  not  been  to  Rome  ?"  Iras  began,  toying  the 
while  with  one  of  her  unclasped  bracelets. 

"  No,"  said  Esther,  demurely. 

"  Have  you  not  wished  to  go  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Ah,  how  little  there  has  been  of  your  life  !" 

The  sigh  that  succeeded  the  exclamation  could  not  have 
been  more  piteously  expressive  had  the  loss  been  the  Egyp 
tian's  own.  Next  moment  her  laugh  might  have  been  heard 
in  the  street  below  ;  and  she  said,  "  Oh,  oh,  my  pretty  sim 
pleton  !  The  half-fledged  birds  nested  in  the  ear  of  the 
great  bust  out  on  the  Memphian  sands  know  nearly  as 
much  as  you." 

Then,  seeing  Esther's  confusion,  she  changed  her  man 
ner,  and  said  in  a  confiding  tone,  "  You  must  not  take 
offence.  Oh  no !  I  was  playing.  Let  me  kiss  the  hurt, 
and  tell  you  what  I  would  not  to  any  other — not  if  Simbel 
himself  asked  it  of  me,  offering  a  lotus-cup  of  the  sprav  of 
the  Nile !" 

Another  laugh,  masking  excellently  the  look  she  turned 
sharply  upon  the  Jewess,  and  she  said,  "  The  King  is  com 
ing." 

Esther  gazed  at  her  in  innocent  surprise. 

"  The  Nazarene,"  Iras  continued — "  he  whom  our  fathers 
have  been  talking  about  so  much,  whom  Ben-IIur  has  been 
serving  and  toiling  for  so  long  " — her  voice  dropped  several 
31 


482  BEN-HUB:  A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

tones  lower — "  the  Nazarene  will  be  here  to-morrow,  and 
Ben-IIur  to-night." 

Esther  struggled  to  maintain  her  composure,  but  faile'd : 
her  eyes  fell,  the  tell-tale  blood  surged  to  her  cheek  and 
forehead,  and  she  was  saved  sight  of  the  triumphant  smile 
that  passed,  like  a  gleam,  over  the  face  of  the  Egyptian. 

"  See,  here  is  his  promise." 

And  from  her  girdle  she  took  a  roll. 

"  Rejoice  with  me,  0  my  friend !  He  will  be  here  to 
night  !  On  the  Tiber  there  is  a  house,  a  royal  property, 
which  he  has  pledged  to  me ;  and  to  be  its  mistress  is  to 
be—" 

A  sound  of  some  one  walking  swiftly  along  the  street 
below  interrupted  the  speech,  and  she  leaned  over  the  para 
pet  to  see.  Then  she  drew  back,  and  cried,  with  hands 
clasped  above  her  head,  "  Now  blessed  be  Isis  !  'Tis  he — 
Ben-IIur  himself !  That  he  should  appear  while  I  had 
such  thought  of  him !  There  are  no  gods  if  it  be  not  a 
good  omen.  Put  your  arms  about  me,  Esther  —  and  a 
kiss !" 

The  Jewess  looked  up.  Upon  each  cheek  there  was  a 
glow ;  her  eyes  sparkled  with  a  light  more  nearly  of  anger 
than  ever  her  nature  emitted  before.  Her  gentleness  had 
been  too  roughly  overridden.  It  was  not  enough  for  her 
to  be  forbidden  more  than  fugitive  dreams  of  the  man  she 
loved ;  a  boastful  rival  must  tell  her  in  confidence  of  her 
better  success,  and  of  the  brilliant  promises  which  were  its 
rewards.  Of  her,  the  servant  of  a  servant,  there  had  been 
no  hint  of  remembrance ;  this  other  could  show  his  letter, 
leaving  her  to  imagine  all  it  breathed.  So  she  said, 

"  Dost  thou  love  him  so  much,  then,  or  Rome  so  much 
better." 

The  Egyptian  drew  back  a  step ;  then  she  bent  her 
haughty  head  quite  near  her  questioner. 

"  What  is  he  to  thee,  daughter  of  Simonides  ?" 

Esther,  all  thrilling,  began,  "  He  is  my — " 

A  thought  blasting  as  lightning  stayed  the  words :  she 
paled,  trembled,  recovered,  and  answered, 

"  He  is  my  father's  friend." 

Her  tonjnie  had  refused  to  admit  her  servile  condition. 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  483 

Iras  laughed  more  lightly  than  before. 

"Not  more  than  that?"  she  said.  "Ah,  by  the  lover- 
gods  of  Egypt,  thou  mayst  keep  thy  kisses — keep  them. 
Thou  hast  taught  me  but  now  that  there  are  others  vastly 
more  estimable  waiting  me  here  in  Judea ;  and  "  —  she 
turned  away,  looking  back  over  her  shoulder — "  I  will  go 
get  them.  Peace  to  thee." 

Esther  saw  her  disappear  down  the  steps,  when,  putting 
her  hands  over  her  face,  she  burst  into  tears  so  they  ran 
scalding  through  her  fingers — tears  of  shame  and  choking 
passion.  And,  to  deepen  the  paroxysm  to  her  even  tem 
per  so  strange,  up  with  a  new  meaning  of  withering  force 
rose  her  father's  words — "  Thy  love  might  not  have  been 
vainly  given  had  I  kept  fast  hold  of  all  I  had,  as  I  might 
have  done." 

And  all  the  stars  were  out,  burning  low  above  the  city 
and  the  dark  wall  of  mountains  about  it,  before  she  recov 
ered  enough  to  go  back  to  the  summer-house,  and  in  si 
lence  take  her  accustomed  place  at  her  father's  side,  humbly 
waiting  his  pleasure.  To  such  duty  it  seemed  her  youth, 
if  not  her  life,  must  be  given.  And,  let  the  truth  be  said, 
now  that  the  pang  was  spent,  she  went  not  unwillingly 
back  to  the  duty. 


CHAPTER  II. 

AN  hour  or  thereabouts  after  the  scene  upon  the  roof, 
Balthasar  and  Simonides,  the  latter  attended  by  Esther, 
met  in  the  great  chamber  of  the  palace ;  and  while  they 
were  talking,  Ben-IIur  and  Iras  came  in  together. 

The  young  Jew,  advancing  in  front  of  his  companion, 
walked  first  to  Balthasar,  and  saluted  him,  and  received  his 
reply  ;  then  he  turned  to  Simonides,  but  paused  at  sight  of 
Esther. 

It  is  not  often  we  have  hearts  roomy  enough  for  more 
than  one  of  the  absorbing  passions  at  the  same  time  ;  in  its 
blaze  the  others  may  continue  to  live,  but  only  as  lesser 
lights.  So  with  Bcn-Hur,  much  study  of  possibilities,  in 
dulgence  of  hopes  and  dreams,  influences  born  of  the  con- 


484  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   TUB   CHRIST. 

dition  of  his  country,  influences  more  direct — that  of  Iras, 
for  example — had  made  him  in  the  broadest  worldly  sense 
ambitious  ;  and  as  he  had  given  the  passion  place,  allowing 
it  to  become  a  rule,  and  finally  an  imperious  governor,  the 
resolves  and  impulses  of  former  days  faded  imperceptibly 
out  of  being,  and  at  last  almost  out  of  recollection.  It  is 
at  best  so  easy  to  forget  our  youth  ;  in  his  case  it  was  but 
natural  that  his  own  sufferings  and  the  mystery  darkening 
the  fate  of  his  family  should  move  him  less  and  less  as,  in 
hope  at  least,  he  approached  nearer  and  nearer  the  goals 
which  occupied  all  his  visions.  Only  let  us  not  judge  him 
too  harshly. 

He  paused  in  surprise  at  seeing  Esther  a  woman  now, 
and  so  beautiful ;  and  as  he  stood  looking  at  her  a  still 
voice  reminded  him  of  broken  vows  and  duties  undone  : 
almost  his  old  self  returned. 

For  an  instant  he  was  startled ;  but  recovering,  he  went 
to  Esther,  and  said,  "Peace  to  thee,  sweet  Esther — peace  ; 
and  thou,  Simonides  " — he  looked  to  the  merchant  as  he 
spoke — "  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  be  thine,  if  only  be 
cause  thou  hast  been  a  good  father  to  the  fatherless." 

Esther  heard  him  with  downcast  face  ;  Simonides  an 
swered, 

"  I  repeat  the  welcome  of  the  good  Balthasar,  son  of 
Ilur — welcome  to  thy  father's  house ;  and  sit,  and  tell  us 
of  thy  travels,  and  of  thy  work,  and  of  the  wonderful 
Nazarene — who  he  is,  and  what.  If  thou  art  not  at  ease 
here,  who  shall  be  ?  Sit,  I  pray — there,  between  us,  that 
we  may  all  hear." 

Esther  stepped  out  quickly  and  brought  a  covered  stool, 
and  set  it  for  him. 

"  Thanks,"  he  said  to  her,  gratefully. 

When  seated,  after  some  other  conversation,  he  addressed 
himself  to  the  men. 

"  I  have  come  to  tell  you  of  the  Nazarene." 

The  two  became  instantly  attentive. 

"  For  many  days  now  I  have  followed  him  with  such 
watchfulness  as  one  may  give  another  upon  whom  he  is 
waiting  so  anxiously.  I  have  seen  him  under  all  circum 
stances  said  to  be  trials  and  tests  of  men ;  and  while  I  am 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  485 

certain  he  is  a  man  as  I  am,  not  less  certain  am  I  that  he 
is  something  more." 

"  AVhat  more?"  asked  Simonides. 

"  I  will  tell  you—" 

Some  one  coming  into  the  room  interrupted  him ;  he 
turned,  and  arose  with  extended  hands. 

"  Amrah  !     Dear  old  Am  rah  !"  he  cried. 

She  came  forward  ;  and  they,  seeing  the  joy  in  her  face, 
thought  not  once  how  wrinkled  and  tawny  it  was.  She 
knelt  at  his  feet,  clasped  his  knees,  and  kissed  his  hands 
over  and  over ;  and  when  he  could  he  put  the  lank  gray 
hair  from  her  cheeks,  and  kissed  them,  saying,  "  Good  Am 
rah,  have  you  nothing,  nothing  of  them — not  a  word — not 
one  little  sign  ?" 

Then  she  broke  into  sobbing  which  made  him  answer 
plainer  even  than  the  spoken  word. 

"  God's  will  has  been  done,"  he  next  said,  solemnly,  in  a 
tone  to  make  each  listener  know  he  had  no  hope  more  of 
finding  his  people.  In  his  eyes  there  were  tears  which  he 
would  not  have  them  see,  because  he  was  a  man. 

When  he  could  again,  he  took  seat,  and  said,  "  Come,  sit 
by  me,  Amrah — here.  No  ?  then  at  my  feet ;  for  I  have 
much  to  say  to  these  good  friends  of  a  wonderful  man 
come  into  the  world." 

But  she  went  off,  and  stooping  with  her  back  to  the 
wall,  joined  her  hands  before  her  knees,  content,  they  all 
thought,  with  seeing  him.  Then  Ben-Hur,  bowing  to  the 
old  men,  began  again  : 

"  I  fear  to  answer  the  question  asked  me  about  the  Naz- 
arene  without  first  telling  you  some  of  the  things  I  have 
seen  him  do ;  and  to  that  I  am  the  more  inclined,  my 
friends,  because  to-morrow  he  will  come  to  the  city,  and  go 
up  into  the  Temple,  which  he  calls  his  father's  house, 
where,  it  is  further  said,  he  will  proclaim  himself.  So, 
whether  you  arc  right,  O  Balthasar,  or  you,  Simonides,  we 
and  Israel  shall  know  to-morrow." 

Balthasar  rubbed  his  hands  tremulously  together,  and 
asked,  "  Where  shall  I  go  to  see  him  ?" 

"  The  pressure  of  the  crowd  will  be  very  great.  Better, 
I  think,  that  you  all  go  upon  the  roof  above  the  cloisters 
— say  upon  the  porch  of  Solomon." 


486  BEN-HTJR:    A  TALE    OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  Can  you  be  with  us  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Ben-IIur,  "  my  friends  will  require  me,  per 
haps,  in  the  procession." 

"  Procession  !"  exclaimed  Simonides.  "  Does  he  travel 
in  state  ?" 

Ben-Hur  saw  the  argument  in  mind. 

"  He  brings  twelve  men  with  him,  fishermen,  tillers  of 
the  soil,  one  a  publican,  all  of  the  humbler  class ;  and  he 
and  they  make  their  journeys  on  foot,  careless  of  wind, 
cold,  rain,  or  sun.  Seeing  them  stop  by  the  wayside  at 
nightfall  to  break  bread  or  lie  down  to  sleep,  I  have  been 
reminded  of  a  party  of  shepherds  going  back  to  their 
flocks  from  market,  not  of  nobles  and  kings.  Only  when 
he  lifts  the  corners  of  his  handkerchief  to  look  at  some 
one  or  shake  the  dust  from  his  head,  I  am  made  know  he 
is  their  teacher  as  well  as  their  companion — their  superior 
not  less  than  their  friend. 

"  You  are  shrewd  men,"  Ben-Hur  resumed,  after  a  pause. 
"  You  know  what  creatures  of  certain  master  motives  we 
are,  and  that  it  has  become  little  less  than  a  law  of  our 
nature  to  spend  life  in  eager  pursuit  of  certain  objects  ; 
now,  appealing  to  that  law  as  something  by  which  we  may 
know  ourselves,  what  Avould  you  say  of  a  man  who  could 
be  rich  by  making  gold  of  the  stones  under  his  feet,  yet  is 
poor  of  choice  ?" 

"  The  Greeks  would  call  him  a  philosopher,"  said  Iras. 

"  Nay,  daughter,"  said  Balthasar,  "  the  philosophers  had 
never  the  power  to  do  such  thing." 

"  How  know  you  this  man  has  ?" 

Ben-Hur  answered  quickly,  "  I  saw  him  turn  water  into 
wine." 

"  Very  strange,  very  strange,"  said  Simonides  ;  "  but  it 
is  not  so  strange  to  me  as  that  he  should  prefer  to  live 
poor  when  he  could  be  so  rich.  Is  he  so  poor  ?" 

"  He  owns  nothing,  and  envies  nobody  his  owning.  He 
pities  the  rich.  But  passing  that,  what  would  you  say  to 
see  a  man  multiply  seven  loaves  and  two  fishes,  all  his 
store,  into  enough  to  feed  five  thousand  people,  and  have 
full  baskets  over?  That  I  saw  the  Nazarene  do." 

"  You  saw  it  ?"  exclaimed  Simonides. 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CMRIST.  487 

"  Ay,  and  ate  of  the  bread  and  fish." 

"More  marvellous  still,"  Ben-llur  continued,  "what 
would  you  say  of  a  man  in  whom  there  is  such  healing 
virtue  that  the  sick  have  but  to  touch  the  hem  of  his  gar 
ment  to  be  cured,  or  cry  to  him  afar  ?  That,  too,  I  wit 
nessed,  not  once,  but  many  times.  As  we  came  out  of 
Jericho  two  blind  men  by  the  wayside  called  to  the  Naza- 
rene,  and  he  touched  their  eyes,  and  they  saw.  So  they 
brought  a  palsied  man  to  him,  and  he  said  merely,  '  Go 
unto  thy  house,'  and  the  man  went  away  well.  What  say 
you  to  these  things?" 

The  merchant  had  no  answer. 

"  Think  you  now,  as  I  have  heard  others  argue,  that  what 
I  have  told  you  are  tricks  of  jugglery  ?  Let  me  answer  by 
recalling  greater  things  which  I  have  seen  him  do.  Look 
first  to  that  curse  of  God — comfortless,  as  you  all  know, 
except  by  death — leprosy." 

At  these  words  Amrah  dropped  her  hands  to  the  floor, 
and  in  her  eagerness  to  hear  him  half  arose. 

"  What  would  you  say,"  said  Ben-Hur,  with  increased 
earnestness — "  what  would  you  say  to  have  seen  that  I  now 
tell  you  ?  A  leper  came  to  the  Nazarene  while  I  was  with 
him  down  in  Galilee,  and  said,  '  Lord,  if  thou  wilt,  thou 
canst  make  me  clean.'  '  He  heard  the  cry,  and  touched  the 
outcast  with  his  hand,  saying, '  Be  thou  clean  ;'  and  forth 
with  the  man  was  himself  again,  healthful  as  any  of  us 
who  beheld  the  cure,  and  we  were  a  multitude." 

Here  Amrah  arose,  and  with  her  gaunt  fingers  held  the 
wiry  locks  from  her  eyes.  The  brain  of  the  poor  creature 
had  long  since  gone  to  heart,  and  she  was  troubled  to  fol 
low  the  speech. 

"Then, again,"  said  Ben-IIur,  without  stop,  "ten  lepers 
came  to  him  one  day  in  a  body,  and,  falling  at  his  feet, 
called  out — I  saw  and  heard  it  all — called  out,  '  Master, 
Master,  have  mercy  upon  us  !'  He  told  them,  '  Go,  show 
yourselves  to  the  priest,  as  the  law  requires ;  and  before 
you  are  come  there  ye  shall  be  healed.'  " 

"  And  were  they  ?" 

"  Yes.  On  the  road  going  their  infirmity  left  them,  so 
that  there  was  nothing  to  remind  us  of  it  except  their  pol 
luted  clothes." 


488  BEN-IIUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  Sucli  tiling  was  never  heard  before — never  in  all  Is 
rael  !"  said  Simonides,  in  undertone. 

And  then,  while  he  was  speaking,  Amrah  turned  away, 
and  walked  noiselessly  to  the  door,  and  went  out ;  and 
none  of  the  company  saw  her  go. 

"  The  thoughts  stirred  by  such  things  done  under  my 
eyes  I  leave  you  to  imagine,"  said  Ben-IIur,  continuing ; 
"  but  my  doubts,  my  misgivings,  my  amazement,  were  not 
yet  at  the  full.  The  people  of  Galilee  are,  as  you  know, 
impetuous  and  rash ;  after  years  of  waiting  their  swords 
burned  their  hands ;  nothing  would  do  them  but  action. 
'  lie  is  slow  to  declare  himself ;  let  us  force  him,'  they  cried 
to  me.  And  I  too  became  impatient.  If  he  is  to  be  king, 
why  not  now  ?  The  legions  are  ready.  So  as  he  was 
once  teaching  by  the  seaside  we  would  have  crowned  him 
whether  or  not ;  but  he  disappeared,  and  was  next  seen  on 
a  ship  departing  from  the  shore.  Good  Simonides,  the 
desires  that  make  other  men  mad — riches,  power,  even 
kingships  offered  out  of  great  love  by  a  great  people — 
move  this  one  not  at  all.  What  say  you  ?" 

The  merchant's  chin  was  low  upon  his  breast ;  raising 
his  head,  he  replied,  resolutely,  u  The  Lord  liveth,  and  so 
do  the  words  of  the  prophets.  Time  is  in  the  green  yet ; 
let  to-morrow  answer." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Balthasar,  smiling. 

And  Ben-IIur  said,  "  Be  it  so."  Then  he  Avent  on : 
"  But  I  have  not  yet  done.  From  these  things,  not  too 
great  to  be  above  suspicion  by  such  as  did  not  see  them 
in  performance  as  I  did,  let  me  carry  you  now  to  others 
infinitely  greater,  acknowledged  since  the  world  began  to 
be  past  the  power  of  man.  Tell  me,  has  any  one  to  your 
knowledge  ever  reached  out  and  taken  from  Death  what 
Death  has  made  his  own  ?  Who  ever  gave  again  the 
breath  of  a  life  lost?  Who  but — " 

"  God  !"  said  Balthasar,  reverently. 

Ben-Hur  bowed. 

"  O  wise  Egyptian  !  I  may  not  refuse  the  name  you  lend 
me.  What  would  you — or  you,  Simonides — what  would 
you  either  or  both  have  said  had  you  seen  as  I  did,  a  man, 
with  few  words  and  no  ceremony,  without  effort  more  than 


BEN-IIUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  489 

a  mother's  when  she  speaks  to  wake  her  child  asleep,  undo 
the  work  of  Death  ?  It  was  down  at  Nain.  We  were 
about  going  into  the  gate,  when  a  company  came  out  bear 
ing  a  dead  man.  The  Nazarene  stopped  to  let  the  train 
pass.  There  was  a  woman  among  them  crying.  I  saw 
his  face  soften  with  pity.  He  spoke  to  her,  then  went  and 
touched  the  bier,  and  said  to  him  who  lay  upon  it  dressed ' 
for  burial, '  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thce,  Arise  !'  And  in 
stantly  the  dead  sat  up  and  talked." 

"  God  only  is  so  great,"  said  Balthasar  to  Simonides. 

"  Mark  you,"  Ben-Hur  proceeded,  "  I  do  but  tell  you 
things  of  which  I  was  a  witness,  together  with  a  cloud  of 
other  men.  On  the  way  hither  I  saw  another  act  still  more 
mighty.  In  Bethany  there  was  a  man  named  Lazarus,  who 
died  and  was  buried ;  and  after  he  had  lain  four  days  in  a 
tomb,  shut  in  by  a  great  stone,  the  Nazarene  was  shown 
to  the  place.  Upon  rolling  the  stone  away,  we  beheld  the 
man  lying  inside  bound  and  rotting.  There  were  many 
people  standing  by,  and  we  all  heard  what  the  Nazarene 
said,  for  he  spoke  in  a  loud  voice  :  '  Lazarus,  come  forth  !' 
I  cannot  tell  you  my  feelings  when  in  answer,  as  it  were, 
the  man  arose  and  came  out  to  us  with  all  his  cerements 
about  him.  '  Loose  him,'  said  the  Nazarene  next,  '  loose 
him,  and  let  him  go.'  And  when  the  napkin  was  taken 
from  the  face  of  the  resurrected,  lo,  my  friends  !  the  blood 
ran  anew  through  the  wasted  body,  and  he  was  exactly  as 
he  had  been  in  life  before  the  sickness  that  took  him  off. 
He  lives  yet,  and  is  hourly  seen  and  spoken  to.  You  may 
go  see  him  to-morrow.  And  now,  as  nothing  more  is 
needed  for  the  purpose,  I  ask  you  that  which  I  came  to 
ask,  it  being  but  a  repetition  of  what  you  asked  me,  O 
Simonides,  What  more  than  a  man  is  this  Nazarene  ?" 

The  question  was  put  solemnly,  and  long  after  midnight 
the  company  sat  and  debated  it ;  Simonides  being  yet  un 
willing  to  give  up  his  understanding  of  the  sayings  of  the 
prophets,  and  Ben-Hur  contending  that  the  elder  disputants 
were  both  right — that  the  Nazarene  was  the  Redeemer,  as 
claimed  by  Balthasar,  and  also  the  destined  king  the  mer 
chant  would  have. 

"  To-morrow  we  will  see.     Peace  to  vou  all." 


490  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

So  saying,  Ben-IIur  took  his  leave,  intending  to  return 
to  Bethany. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  first  person  to  go  out  of  the  city  upon  the  opening 
of  the  Sheep's  Gate  next  morning  was  Amrah,  basket  on 
arm.  No  questions  were  asked  her  by  the  keepers,  since 
the  morning  itself  had  not  been  more  regular  in  coming 
than  she  ;  they  knew  her  somebody's  faithful  servant,  and 
that  was  enough  for  them. 

Down  the  eastern  valley  she  took  her  way.  The  side 
of  Olivet,  darkly  green,  was  spotted  with  white  tents  re 
cently  put  up  by  people  attending  the  feasts ;  the  hour, 
however,  was  too  early  for  the  strangers  to  be  abroad  ; 
still,  had  it  not  been  so,  no  one  would  have  troubled  her. 
Past  Gethsernane ;  past  the  tombs  at  the  meeting  of  the 
Bethany  roads ;  past  the  sepulchral  village  of  Siloam  she 
went.  Occasionally  the  decrepit  little  body  staggered ; 
once  she  sat  down  to  get  her  breath  ;  rising  shortly,  she 
struggled  on  with  renewed  haste.  The  great  rocks  on 
either  hand,  if  they  had  had  ears,  might  have  heard  her 
mutter  to  herself ;  could  they  have  seen,  it  would  have 
been  to  observe  how  frequently  she  looked  up  over  the 
Mount,  reproving  the  dawn  for  its  promptness  ;  if  it  had 
been  possible  for  them  to  gossip,  not  improbably  they 
would  have  said  to  each  other, "  Our  friend  is  in  a  hurry 
this  morning ;  the  mouths  she  goes  to  feed  must  be  very 
hungry." 

When  at  last  she  reached  the  King's  Garden  she  slack 
ened  her  gait ;  for  then  the  grim  city  of  the  lepers  was  in 
view,  extending  far  round  the  pitted  south  hill  of  Hinnom. 

As  the  reader  must  by  this  time  have  surmised,  she  was 
going  to  her  mistress,  whose  tomb,  it  will  be  remembered, 
overlooked  the  well  En-Rogel. 

Early  as  it  was,  the  unhappy  woman  was  up  and  sitting 
outside,  leaving  Tirzah  asleep  within.  The  course  of  the 
malady  had  been  terribly  swift  in  the  three  years.  Con 
scious  of  her  appearance,  with  the  refined  instincts  of  her 


BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  491 

nature,  she  kept  her  whole  person  habitually  covered.  Sel 
dom  as  possible  she  permitted  even  Tirzah  to  see  her. 

This  morning  she  was  taking  the  air  with  bared  head, 
knowing  there  was  no  one  to  be  shocked  by  the  exposure. 
The  light  was  not  full,  but  enough  to  show  the  ravages  to 
which  she  had  been  subject.  Her  hair  was  snow-white 
and  unmanageably  coarse,  falling  over  her  back  and  shoul 
ders  like  so  much  silver  wire.  The  eyelids,  the  lips,  the 
nostrils,  the  flesh  of  the  cheeks,  were  either  gone  or  re 
duced  to  fetid  rawness.  The  neck  was  a  mass  of  ash-col 
ored  scales.  One  hand  lay  outside  the  folds  of  her  habit 
rigid  as  that  of  a  skeleton  ;  the  nails  had  been  eaten  away ; 
the  joints  of  the  .  fingers,  if  not  bare  to  the  bone,  were 
swollen  knots  crusted  with  red  secretion.  Head,  face, 
neck,  and  hand  indicated  all  too  plainly  the  condition  of 
the  whole  body.  Seeing  her  thus,  it  was  easy  to  under 
stand  how  the  once  fair  widow  of  the  princely  Hur  had 
been  able  to  maintain  her  incognito  so  well  through  such 
a  period  of  years. 

When  the  sun  would  gild  the  crest  of  Olivet  and  the 
Mount  of  Offence  with  light  sharper  and  more  brilliant  in 
that  old  land  than  in  the  West,  she  knew  Amrah  would 
come,  first  to  the  well,  then  to  a  stone  midway  the  well  and 
the  foot  of  the  hill  on  which  she  had  her  abode,  and  that 
the  good  servant  would  there  deposit  the  food  she  carried 
in  the  basket,  and  fill  the  water-jar  afresh  for  the  day.  Of 
her  former  plenitude  of  happiness,  that  brief  visit  was  all 
that  remained  to  the  unfortunate.  She  could  then  ask 
about  her  son,  and  be  told  of  his  welfare,  with  such  bits 
of  news  concerning  him  as  the  messenger  could  glean. 
Usually  the  information  was  meagre  enough,  yet  comfort 
ing  ;  at  times  she  heard  he  was  at  home ;  then  she  would 
issue  from  her  dreary  cell  at  break  of  day,  and  sit  till 
noon,  and  from  noon  to  set  of  sun,  a  motionless  figure 
draped  in  white,  looking,  statue  -  like,  invariably  to  one 
point — over  the  Temple  to  the  spot  under  the  rounded  sky 
where  the  old  house  stood,  dear  in  memory,  and  dearer  be 
cause  he  was  there.  Nothing  else  was  left  her.  Tirzah 
she  counted  of  the  dead ;  and  as  for  herself,  she  simply 
waited  the  end,  knowing  every  hour  of  life  was  an  hour  of 
dying — happily,  of  painless  dying. 


492  BEX-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

The  things  of  nature  about  the  hill  to  keep  her  sensitive 
to  the  world's  attractions  were  wretchedly  scant ;  beasts 
and  birds  avoided  the  place  as  if  they  knew  its  history  and 
present  use ;  every  green  thing  perished  in  its  first  sea 
son  ;  the  winds  warred  upon  the  shrubs  and  venturous 
grasses,  leaving  to  drought  such  as  they  could  not  uproot. 
Look  where  she  would,  the  view  was  made  depressingly 
suggestive  by  tombs  —  tombs  above  her,  tombs  belcw, 
tombs  opposite  her  own  tomb — all  now  freshly  whitened 
in  warning  to  visiting  pilgrims.  In  the  sky — clear,  fair, 
inviting — one  would  think  she  might  have  found  some  re 
lief  to  her  ache  of  mind ;  but,  alas !  in  making  the  beauti 
ful  elsewhere  the  sun  served  her  never  so  unfriendly — it 
did  but  disclose  her  growing  hideousness.  But  for  the 
sun  she  would  not  have  been  the  horror  she  was  to  her 
self,  nor  been  waked  so  cruelly  from  dreams  of  Tirzah  as 
she  used  to  be.  The  gift  of  seeing  can  be  sometimes  a 
dreadful  curse. 

Does  one  ask  why  she  did  not  make  an  end  to  her  suf 
ferings? 

The  Law  forbade  her  ! 

A  Gentile  may  smile  at  the  answer ;  but  so  will  not  a 
son  of  Israel. 

While  she  sat  there  peopling  the  dusky  solitude  with 
thoughts  even  more  cheerless,  suddenly  a  woman  came  up 
the  hill  staggering  and  spent  with  exertion. 

The  widow  arose  hastily,  and,  covering  her  head,  cried,  in 
a  voice  unnaturally  harsh,  "  Unclean,  unclean  !" 

In  a  moment,  heedless  of  the  notice,  Amrah  was  at  her 
feet.  All  the  long-pent  love  of  the  simple  creature  burst 
forth :  with  tears  and  passionate  exclamations  she  kissed 
her  mistress's  garments,  and  for  a  while  the  latter  strove  to 
escape  from  her;  then,  seeing  she  could  not,  she  waited 
till  the  violence  of  the  paroxysm  was  over. 

"  What  have  you  done,  Amrah  ?"  she  said.  "  Is^t  by 
such  disobedience  you  prove  your  love  for  us  ?  Wicked 
woman  !  You  are  lost ;  and  he — your  master — you  can 
never,  never  go  back  to  him." 

Amrah  grovelled  sobbing  in  the  dust. 

"  The  ban  of  the  Law  is  upon  you,  too  ;  you  cannot  re- 


BEN-I1UK:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  493 

turn  to  Jerusalem.  What  will  become  of  us  ?  Who  will 
bring  us  bread  ?  O  wicked,  wicked  Amrali  !  We  are  all, 
all  undone  alike !" 

"  Mercy,  mercy  !"  Amrali  answered,  from  the  ground. 

"  You  should  have  been  merciful  to  yourself,  and  by  so 
doing  been  most  merciful  to  us.  Now  where  can  we  fly  ? 
There  is  no  one  to  help  us.  O  false  servant !  The  wrath 
of  the  Lord  was  already  too  heavy  upon  us." 

Here  Tirzah,  awakened  by  the  noise,  appeared  at  the 
door  of  the  tomb.  The  pen  shrinks  from  the  picture  she 
presented.  In  the  half  -  clad  apparition,  patched  with 
scales,  lividly  seamed,  nearly  blind,  its  limbs  and  extremi 
ties  swollen  to  grotesque  largeness,  familiar  eyes  however 
sharpened  by  love  could  not  have  recognized  the  creature 
of  childish  grace  and  purity  we  first  beheld  her. 

uls  it  Amrah,  mother?" 

The  servant  tried  to  crawl  to  her  also. 

"  Stay,  Amrah  !"  the  widow  cried,  imperiously.  "  I  for 
bid  you  touching  her.  Rise,  and  get  you  gone  before  any 
at  the  well  see  you  here.  Nay,  I  forgot — it  is  too  late ! 
You  must  remain  mow  and  share  our  doom.  Rise,  I  say !" 

Amrah  rose  to  her  knees,  and  said,  brokenly  and  with 
clasped  hands,  "  O  good  mistress  !  I  am  not  false — I  am 
not  wicked.  I  bring  you  good  tidings." 

"  Of  Judah?"  and  as  she  spoke,  the  widow  half  withdrew 
the  cloth  from  her  head. 

"  There  is  a  wonderful  man,"  Amrah  continued,  "  who 
has  power  to  cure  you.  He  speaks  a  word,  and  the  sick 
are  made  well,  and  even  the  dead  come  to  life.  I  have 
come  to  take  you  to  him." 

"  Poor  Amrah  !"  said  Tirzah,  compassionately. 

"  No,"  cried  Amrah,  detecting  the  doubt  underlying  the 
expression — "  no,  as  the  Lord  lives,  even  the  Lord  of  Israel, 
my  God  as  well  as  yours,  I  speak  the  truth.  Go  with  me, 
I  pray,  and  lose  no  time.  This  morning  he  will  pass  by 
on  his  way  to  the  city.  See  !  the  day  is  at  hand.  Take 
the  food  here — eat,  and  let  us  go." 

The  mother  listened  eagerly.  Not  unlikely  she  had 
heard  of  the  wonderful  man,  for  by  this  time  his  fame 
had  penetrated  every  nook  in  the  land. 


494  BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

'  Who  is  he  ?"  she  asked. 

'  A  Nazarene." 

'  Who  told  you  about  him  ?" 

'  Judah." 

'  Judah  told  you  ?     Is  he  at  home  ?" 

'  He  came  last  night." 

The  widow,  trying  to  still  the  beating  of  her  heart,  was 
silent  awhile. 

"  Did  Judah  send  you  to  tell  us  this  ?"  she  next  asked. 

"  No.     He  believes  you  dead." 

"  There  was  a  prophet  once  who  cured  a  leper,"  the 
mother  said  thoughtfully  to  Tirzah ;  "  but  he  had  his 
power  from  God."  Then  addressing  Amrah,  she  asked, 
"  How  does  my  son  know  this  man  so  possessed  ?" 

"  He  was  travelling  with  him,  and  heard  the  lepers  call, 
and  saw  them  go  away  well.  First  there  was  one  man ; 
then  there  were  ten ;  and  they  were  all  made  whole." 

The  elder  listener  was  silent  again.  The  skeleton  hand 
shook.  We  may  believe  she  was  struggling  to  give  the 
story  the  sanction  of  faith,  which  is  always  an  absolutist 
in  demand,  and  that  it  was  with  her  as  with  the  men  of  the 
day,  eye-witnesses  of  what  was  done  by  the  Christ,  as  well 
as  the  myriads  who  have  succeeded  them.  She  did  not 
question  the  performance,  for  her  own  son  was  the  wit 
ness  testifying  through  the  servant ;  but  she  strove  to 
comprehend  the  power  by  which  work  so  astonishing  could 
be  done  by  a  man.  Well  enough  to  make  inquiry  as  to 
the  fact ;  to  comprehend  the  power,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
is  first  necessary  to  comprehend  God ;  and  he  who  waits 
for  that  will  die  waiting.  With  her,  however,  the  hesita 
tion  was  brief.  To  Tirzah  sh^  said, 

"  This  must  be  the  Messiah  !" 

She  spoke  not  coldly,  like  one  reasoning  a  doubt  away, 
but  as  a  woman  of  Israel  familiar  with  the  promises  of 
God  to  her  race — a  woman  of  understanding,  ready  to  be 
glad  over  the  least  sign  of  the  realization  of  the  promises. 

"  There  was  a  time  when  Jerusalem  and  all  Judea  were 
filled  with  a  story  that  he  was  born.  I  remember  it.  By 
this  time  he  should  be  a  man.  It  must  be  —  it  is  he. 
"  Yes,"  she  said  to  Amrah,  "  we  will  go  with  you.  Bring 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST.  495 

the  water  which  you  will  find  in  the  tomb  in  a  jar,  and  set 
the  food  for  us.  We  will  eat  and  be  gone." 

The  breakfast,  partaken  under  excitement,  was  soon  de 
spatched,  and  the  three  women  set  out  on  their  extraordi 
nary  journey.  As  Tirzah  had  caught  the  confident  spirit 
of  the  others,  there  was  but  one  fear  that  troubled  the 
party.  Bethany,  Amrah  said,  was  the  town  the  man  was 
coming  from ;  now  from  that  to  Jerusalem  there  were 
three  roads,  or  rather  paths — one  over  the  first  summit  of 
Olivet,  a  second  at  its  base,  a  third  between  the  second 
summit  and  the  Mount  of  Offence.  The  three  were  not 
far  apart ;  far  enough,  however,  to  make  it  possible  for  the 
unfortunates  to  miss  the  Nazarene  if  they  failed  the  one 
he  chose  to  come  by. 

A  little  questioning  satisfied  the  mother  that  Amrah 
knew  nothing  of  the  country  beyond  the  Cedron,  and  even 
less  of  the  intentions  of  the  man  they  were  going  to  see, 
if  they  could.  She  discerned,  also,  that  both  Amrah  and 
Tirzah — the  one  from  confirmed  habits  of  servitude,  the 
other  from  natural  dependency — looked  to  her  for  guid 
ance  ;  and  she  accepted  the  charge. 

"  We  will  go  first  to  Bethphage,"  she  said  to  them. 
"  There,  if  the  Lord  favor  us,  we  may  learn  what  else  to 
do." 

They  descended  the  hill  to  Tophet  and  the  King's  Gar 
den,  and  paused  in  the  deep  trail  furrowed  through  them 
by  centuries  of  wayfaring. 

"  I  am  afraid  of  the  road,"  the  matron  said.  "  Better 
that  we  keep  to  the  country  among  the  rocks  and  trees. 
This  is  feast-day,  and  on  the  hill-sides  yonder  I  see  signs 
of  a  great  multitude  in  attendance.  By  going  across  the 
Mount  of  Offence  here  we  may  avoid  them." 

Tirzah  had  been  walking  with  great  difficulty ;  upon 
hearing  this  her  heart  began  to  fail  Tier. 

"  The  mount  is  steep,  mother ;  I  cannot  climb  it." 

"  Remember,  we  are  going  to  find  health  and  life.  See, 
my  child,  how  the  day  brightens  around  us  !  And  yonder 
are  women  coming  this  way  to  the  well.  They  will  stone 
us  if  we  stay  here.  Come,  be  strong  this  once." 

Thus  the  mother,  not  less  tortured  herself,  sought  to  in- 


49G  BEN-IIUR:  A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

spire  the  daughter  ;  and  Amrah  came  to  her  aid.  To  this 
time  the  latter  had  not  touched  the  persons  of  the  afflict 
ed,  nor  they  her ;  now,  in  disregard  of  consequences  as 
well  as  of  command,  the  faithful  creature  went  to  Tirzah, 
and  put  her  arm  over  her  shoulder,  and  whispered,  "  Lean 
on  me.  I  am  strong,  though  I  am  old ;  and  it  is  but  a 
little  way  off.  There — now  we  can  go." 

The  face  of  the  hill  they  essayed  to  cross  was  somewhat 
broken  with  pits,  and  ruins  of  old  structures  ;  but  when  at 
last  they  stood  upon  the  top  to  rest,  and  looked  at  the  spec 
tacle  presented  them  over  in  the  northwest — at  the  Tem 
ple  and  its  courtly  terraces,  at  Zion,  at  the  enduring  towers 
white  beetling  into  the  sky  beyond — the  mother  was 
strengthened  with  a  love  of  life  for  life's  sake. 

"  Look,  Tirzah,"  she  said — "  look  at  the  plates  of  gold 
on  the  Gate  Beautiful.  How  they  give  back  the  flames 
of  the  sun,  brightness  for  brightness  !  Do  you  remember 
we  used  to  go  up  there  ?  Will  it  not  be  pleasant  to  do  so 
again  ?  And  think — home  is  but  a  little  way  off.  I  can 
almost  see  it  over  the  roof  of  the  Holy  of  Holies ;  and 
Judah  will  be  there  to  receive  us !" 

From  the  side  of  the  middle  summit  garnished  green 
with  myrtle  and  olive  trees,  they  saw,  upon  looking  that 
way  next,  thin  columns  of  smoke  rising  lightly  and  straight 
up  into  the  pulseless  morning,  each  a  warning  of  restless 
pilgrims  astir,  and  of  the  flight  of  the  pitiless  hours,  and 
the  need  of  haste. 

Though  the  good  servant  toiled  faithfully  to  lighten  the 
labor  in  descending  the  hill-side,  not  sparing  herself  in  the 
least,  the  girl  moaned  at  every  step  ;  sometimes  in  extrem 
ity  of  anguish  she  cried  out.  Upon  reaching  the  road — 
that  is,  the  road  between  the  Mount  of  Offence  and  the 
middle  or  second  summit  of  Olivet — she  fell  down  ex 
hausted. 

"  Go  on  with  Amrah,  mother,  and  leave  me  here,"  she 
said,  faintly. 

"  No,  no,  Tirzah.  What  would  the  gain  be  to  me  if  I 
were  healed  and  you  not  ?  When  Judah  asks  for  you,  as 
he  will,  what  would  I  have  to  say  to  him  were  I  to  leave 
you !" 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  497 

"  Tell  him  I  loved  him." 

The  elder  leper  arose  from  bending  over  the  fainting 
sufferer,  and  gazed  about  her  with  that  sensation  of  hope 
perishing  which  is  more  nearly  like  annihilation ...  of JJifi~ 
joul  than  anything  else.  The  supremest  joy  of  the  thought 
of  cure  was  inseparable  from  Tirzah,  who  was  not  too  old 
to  forget,  in  the  happiness  of  healthful  life  to  come,  the 
years  of  misery  by  which  she  had  been  so  reduced  in  body 
and  broken  in  spirit.  Even  as  the  brave  woman  was  about 
leaving  the  venture  they  were  engaged  in  to  the  determi 
nation  of  God,  she  saw  a  man  on  foot  coming  rapidly  up 
the  road  from  the  east. 

"  Courage,  Tirzah  !  Be  of  cheer,"  she  said.  "  Yonder  I 
know  is  one  to  tell  us  of  the  Nazarene." 

Amrah  helped  the  girl  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  sup 
ported  her  while  the  man  advanced. 

"  In  your  goodness,  mother,  you  forget  what  we  are. 
The  stranger  will  go  around  us  ;  his  best  gift  to  us  will 
be  a  curse,  if  not  a  stone." 

"  We  will  see." 

There  was  no  other  answer  to  be  given,  since  the  mother 
was  too  well  and  sadly  acquainted  with  the  treatment  out 
casts  of  the  class  to  which  she  belonged  were  accustomed 
to  at  the  hands  of  her  countrymen. 

As  has  been  said,  the  road  at  the  edge  of  which  the 
group  was  posted  was  little  more  than  a  worn  path  or  trail, 
winding  crookedly  through  tumuli  of  limestone.  If  the 
stranger  kept  it,  he  must  meet  them  face  to  face ;  and  he 
did  so,  until  near  enough  to  hear  the  cry  she  was  bound 
to  give.  Then,  uncovering  her  head,  a  further  demand  of 
the  law,  she  shouted  shrilly, 

"  Unclean,  unclean !" 

To  her  surprise,  the  man  came  steadily  on. 

"  What  would  you  have  ?"  he  asked,  stopping  opposite 
them  not  four  yards  off. 

"  Thou  seest  us.  Have  a  care,"  the  mother  said,  with 
dignity. 

"  Woman,  I  am  the  courier  of  him  who  speaketh  but 
once  to  such  as  thou  and  they  are  healed.     I  am  not 
afraid." 
32 


498  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  The  Nazarene  ?" 

"  The  Messiah,"  he  said. 

"  Is  it  true  that  he  cometh  to  the  city  to-day  ?" 

"  He  is  now  at  Bethphagc." 

"  On  what  road,  master  ?" 

"  This  one." 

She  clasped  her  hands,  and  looked  up  thankfully. 

"  For  whom  takest  thou  him  ?"  the  man  asked,  with 
pity. 

"  The  Son  of  God,"  she  replied. 

"  Stay  thou  here  then ;  or,  as  there  is  a  multitude  with 
him,  take  thy  stand  by  the  rock  yonder,  the  white  one  un 
der  the  tree ;  and  as  he  goeth  by  fail  not  to  call  to  him ; 
call,  and  fear  not.  If  thy  faith  but  equal  thy  knowledge, 
he  will  hear  thee  though  all  the  heavens  thunder.  I  go 
to  tell  Israel,  assembled  in  and  about  the  city,  that  he  is 
at  hand,  and  to  make  ready  to  receive  him.  Peace  to  thee 
and  thine,  woman." 

The  stranger  moved  on. 

"  Did  you  hear,  Tirzah  ?  Did  you  hear  ?  The  Nazarene 
is  on  the  road,  on  this  one,  and  he  will  hear  us.  Once 
more,  my  child — oh,  only  once  !  and  let  us  to  the  rock. 
It  is  but  a  step." 

Thus  encouraged  Tirzah  took  Amrah's  hand  and  arose ; 
but  as  they  were  going,  Amrah  said,  "  Stay ;  the  man  is 
returning."  And  they  waited  for  him. 

"  I  pray  your  grace,  woman,"  he  said,  upon  overtaking 
them.  "  Remembering  that  the  sun  will  be  hot  before  the 
Nazarene  arrives,  and  that  the  city  is  near  by  to  give  me 
refreshment  should  I  need  it,  I  thought  this  water  would 
do  thee  better  than  it  will  me.  Take  it  and  be  of  good 
cheer.  Call  to  him  as  he  passes." 

He  followed  the  words  by  offering  her  a  gourd  full  of 
water,  such  as  foot-travellers  sometimes  carried  with  them 
in  their  journeys  across  the  hills ;  and  instead  of  placing 
the  gift  on  the  ground  for  her  to  take  up  when  he  was  at 
a  safe  distance,  he  gave  it  into  her  hand. 

"  Art  thou  a  Jew  ?"  she  asked,  surprised. 

"  I  am  that,  and  better ;  I  am  a  disciple  of  the  Christ 
who  teacheth  daily  by  word  and  example  this  thing  which 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  499 

I  have  done  unto  you.  The  world  hath  long  known  the 
word  charity  without  understanding  it.  Again  I  say  peace 
and  good  cheer  to  thee  and  thine." 

lie  went  on,  and  they  went  slowly  to  the  rock  he  had 
pointed  out  to  them,  high  as  their  heads,  and  scarcely 
thirty  yards  from  the  road  on  the  right.  Standing  in 
front  of  it,  the  mother  satisfied  herself  they  could  be  seen 
and  heard  plainly  by  passers-by  whose  notice  they  desired 
to  attract.  There  they  cast  themselves  under  the  tree  in 
its  shade,  and  drank  of  the  gourd,  and  rested  refreshed. 
Ere  long  Tirzah  slept,  and  fearing  to  disturb  her,  the  others 
held  their  peace. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DURING  the  third  hour  the  road  in  front  of  the  resting- 
place  of  the  lepers  became  gradually  more  and  more  fre 
quented  by  people  going  in  the  direction  of  Bethphage  and 
Bethany  ;  now,  however,  about  the  commencement  of  the 
fourth  hour,  a  great  crowd  appeared  over  the  crest  of  Oli 
vet,  and  as  it  defiled  down  the  road  thousands  in  number, 
the  two  watchers  noticed  with  wonder  that  every  one  in  it 
carried  a  palm-branch  freshly  cut.  As  they  sat  absorbed 
by  the  novelty,  the  noise  of  another  multitude  approaching 
from  the  east  drew  their  eyes  that  way.  Then  the  mother 
awoke  Tirzah. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  it  all  ?"  the  latter  asked. 

"  He  is  coming,"  answered  the  mother.  "  These  we  see 
are  from  the  city  going  to  meet  him  ;  those  we  hear  in  the 
east  are  his  friends  bearing  him  company ;  and  it  will  not 
be  strange  if  the  processions  meet  here  before  us." 

"  I  fear,  if  they  do,  we  cannot  be  heard." 

The  same  thought  was  in  the  elder's  mind. 

"  Amrah,"  she  asked,  "  when  Judah  spoke  of  the  heal 
ing  of  the  ten,  in  what  words  did  he  say  they  called  to  the 
Na/arene  ?" 

"  Either  they  said, '  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us,'  or  '  Mas 
ter,  have  mcrcv.' " 

"Only  that?" 


500  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

"  No  more  that  I  heard." 

"  Yet  it  was  enough,"  the  mother  added,  to  herself. 

"  Yes,"  said  Amrah,  "  Judah  said  he  saw  them  go  away 
well." 

Meantime  the  people  in  the  east  came  up  slowly.  When 
at  length  the  foremost  of  them  were  in  sight,  the  gaze  of 
the  lepers  fixed  upon  a  man  riding  in  the  midst  of  what 
seemed  a  chosen  company  which  sang  and  danced  about 
him  in  extravagance  of  joy.  The  rider  was  bareheaded 
and  clad  all  in  white.  When  he  was  in  distance  to  be 
more  clearly  observed,  these,  looking  anxiously,  saw  an 
olive-hued  face  shaded  by  long  chestnut  hair  slightly  sun 
burned  and  parted  in  the  middle.  lie  looked  neither  to 
the  right  nor  left.  In  the  noisy  abandon  of  his  followers 
he  appeared  to  have  no  part ;  nor  did  their  favor  disturb 
him  in  the  least,  or  raise  him  out  of  the  profound  melan 
choly  into  which,  as  his  countenance  showed,  he  was 
plunged.  The  sun  beat  upon  the  back  of  his  head,  and 
lighting  up  the  floating  hair  gave  it  a  delicate  likeness  to 
a  golden  nimbus.  Behind  him  the  irregular  procession, 
pouring  forward  with  continuous  singing  and  shouting, 
extended  out  of  view.  There  was  no  need  of  any  one  to 
tell  the  lepers  that  this  was  he — the  wonderful  Nazarene ! 

"  He  is  here,  Tirzah,"  the  mother  said  ;  "  he  is  here. 
Come,  my  child." 

As  she  spoke  she  glided  in  front  of  the  white  rock  and 
fell  upon  her  knees. 

Directly  the  daughter  and  servant  were  by  her  side. 
Then  at  sight  of  the  procession  in  the  west,  the  thousands 
from  the  city  halted,  and  began  to  wave  their  green 
branches,  shouting,  or  rather  chanting  (for  it  was  all  in 
one  voice), 

"  Blessed  is  the  King  of  Israel  that  cometh  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord !" 

And  all  the  thousands  who  were  of  the  rider's  company, 
both  those  near  and  those  afar,  replied  so  the  air  shook 
with  the  sound,  which  was  as  a  great  wind  threshing  the 
side  of  the  hill.  Amidst  the  din,  the  cries  of  the  poor 
lepers  were  not  more  than  the  twittering  of  dazed  spar 
rows, 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  501 

The  moment  of  the  meeting  of  the  hosts  was  come,  and 
with  it  the  opportunity  the  sufferers  were  seeking ;  if  not 
taken,  it  would  be  lost  forever,  and  they  would  be  lost  as 
well. 

"  "  Nearer,  my  child — let  us  get  nearer.     He  cannot  hear 
us,"  said  the  mother. 

She  arose,  and  staggered  forward.  Her  ghastly  hands 
were  up,  and  she  screamed  with  horrible  shrillness.  The 
people  saw  her — saw  her  hideous  face,  and  stopped  awe 
struck — an  effect  for  which  extreme  human  misery,  visible 
as  in  this  instance,  is  as  potent  as  majesty  in  purple  and 
gold.  Tirzah,  behind  her  a  little  way,  fell  down  too  faint 
and  frightened  to  follow  farther. 

"  The  lepers  !  the  lepers  !" 

"  Stone  them !" 

"  The  accursed  of  God  !    Kill  them  !" 

These,  with  other  yells  of  like  import,  broke  in  upon 
the  hosannas  of  the  part  of  the  multitude  too  far  removed 
to  see  and  understand  the  cause  of  the  interruption.  Some 
there  were,  however,  near  by  familiar  with  the  nature  of 
the  man  to  whom  the  unfortunates  were  appealing — some 
who,  by  long  intercourse  with  him,  had  caught  somewhat 
of  his  divine  compassion :  they  gazed  at  him,  and  were 
silent  while,  in  fair  view,  he  rode  up  and  stopped  in  front 
of  the  woman.  She  also  beheld  his  face — calm,  pitiful, 
and  of  exceeding  beauty,  the  large  eyes  tender  with  be 
nignant  purpose. 

And  this  was  the  colloquy  that  ensued : 

"  O  Master,  Master  !  Thou  seest  our  need  ;  thou  canst 
make  us  clean.  Have  mercy  upon  us — mercy !" 

"  Believest  thou  1  am  able  to  do  this  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Thou  art  he  of  whom  the  prophets  spake — thou  art 
the  Messiah  !"  she  replied. 

His  eyes  grew  radiant,  his  manner  confident. 

"  Woman,"  he  said,  "  great  is  thy  faith  ;  be  it  unto  thee 
even  as  thou  wilt." 

He  lingered  an  instant  after,  apparently  unconscious  of 
the  presence  of  the  throng — an  instant — then  he  rode  a\\a\. 

To  the  heart  divinely  original,  yet  so  human  in  all  the 
better  elements  of  humanity,  going  with  sure  prevision  to 


502  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

«i  death  of  all  the  inventions  of  men  the  foulest  and  most 
cruel,  breathing  even  then  in  the  forecast  shadow  of  the 
awful  event,  and  still  as  hungry  and  thirsty  for  love  and 
faith  as  in  the  beginning,  how  precious  and  ineffably  sooth 
ing  the  farewell  exclamation  of  the  grateful  woman : 

"  To  God  in  the  highest,  glory  !  Blessed,  thrice  blessed, 
the  Son  whom  he  hath  given  us !" 

Immediately  both  the  hosts,  that  from  the  city  and  that 
from  Bethphage,  closed  around  him  with  their  joyous 
demonstrations,  with  hosannas  and  waving  of  palms,  and 
so  he  passed  from  the  lepers  forever.  Covering  her  head, 
the  elder  hastened  to  Tirzah,  and  folded  her  in  her  arms, 
crying,  "  Daughter,  look  up !  I  have  his  promise ;  he  is 
indeed  the  Messiah.  We  are  saved — saved !"  And  the 
two  remained  kneeling  while  the  procession,  slowly  going, 
disappeared  over  the  mount.  When  the  noise  of  its  sing 
ing  afar  was  a  sound  scarcely  heard  the  miracle  began. 

There  was  first  in  the  hearts  of  the  lepers  a  freshening 
of  the  blood ;  then  it  flowed  faster  and  stronger,  thrilling 
their  wasted  bodies  with  an  infinitely  sweet  sense  of  pain 
less  healing.  Each  felt  the  scourge  going  from  her ;  their 
strength  revived ;  they  were  returning  to  be  themselves. 
Directly,  as  if  to  make  the  purification  complete,  from 
body  to  spirit  the  quickening  ran,  exalting  them  to  a  very 
fervor  of  ecstasy.  The  power  possessing  them  to  this 
good  end  was  most  nearly  that  of  a  draught  of  swift  and 
happy  effect ;  yet  it  was  unlike  and  superior  in  that  its 
healing  and  cleansing  were  absolute,  and  not  merely  a  deli 
cious  consciousness  while  in  progress,  but  the  planting, 
growing,  and  maturing  all  at  once  of  a  recollection  so  sin 
gular  and  so  holy  that  the  simple  thought  of  it  should  be 
of  itself  ever  after  a  formless  yet  perfect  thanksgiving. 

To  this  transformation — for  such  it  may  be  called  quite 
as  properly  as  a  cure — there  was  a  witness  other  than  Am- 
rah.  The  reader  will  remember  the  constancy  with  which 
Ben-Hur  had  followed  the  Nazarene  throughout  his  wan 
derings  ;  and  now,  recalling  the  conversation  of  the  night 
before,  there  will  be  little  surprise  at  learning  that  the  young 
Jew  was  present  when  the  leprous  woman  appeared  in  the 
path  of  the  pilgrims.  He  heard  her  prayer,  and  saw  her 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  503 

disfigured  face ;  he  heard  the  answer  also,  and  was  not  so 
accustomed  to  incidents  of  the  kind,  frequent  as  they  had 
been,  as  to  have  lost  interest  in  them.  Had  such  thing 
been  possible  with  him,  still  the  bitter  disputation  always 
excited  by  the  simplest  display  of  the  Master's  curative 
gift  would  have  sufficed  to  keep  his  curiosity  alive.  Be 
sides  that,  if  not  above  it  as  an  incentive,  his  hope  to  sat 
isfy  himself  upon  the  vexed  question  of  the  mission  of 
the  mysterious  man  was  still  upon  him  strong  as  in  the 
beginning ;  we  might  indeed  say  even  stronger,  because 
of  a  belief  that  now  quickly,  before  the  sun  went  down, 
the  man  himself  would  make  all  known  by  public  procla 
mation.  At  the  close  of  the  scene,  consequently,  Bcn- 
llur  had  withdrawn  from  the  procession,  and  seated  him 
self  upon  a  stone  to  wait  its  passage. 

From  his  place  he  nodded  recognition  to  many  of  tlie 
people  —  Galileans  in  his  league,  carrying  short  swords' 
under  their  long  abbas.  After  a  little  a  swarthy  Arab 
came  up  leading  two  horses ;  at  a  sign  from  Ben-Hur  he 
also  drew  out. 

"  Stay  here,"  the  young  master  said,  when  all  were  gone 
by,  even  the  laggards.  "  I  wish  to  be  at  the  city  early, 
and  Aldebaran  must  do  me  service." 

He  stroked  the  broad  forehead  of  the  horse,  now  in  his 
prime  of  strength  and  beauty,  then  crossed  the  road  tow 
ards  the  two  women. 

They  were  to  him,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind,  strangers 
in  whom  he  felt  interest  only  as  they  were  subjects  of  a 
superhuman  experiment,  the  result  of  which  might  pos 
sibly  help  him  to  solution  of  the  mystery  that  had  so  long 
engaged  him.  As  he  proceeded,  he  glanced  casually  at 
the  figure  of  the  little  woman  over  by  the  white  rock, 
standing  there  her  face  hidden  in  her  hands. 

"  As  the  Lord  liveth,  it  is  Amrah  ! "  he  said  to  himself. 

He  hurried  on,  and  passing  by  the  mother  and  daughter, 
still  without  recognizing  them, he  stopped  before  the  servant. 

"Amrah,"  he  said  to  her,  "Amrah,  what  do  you  here?" 

She  rushed  forward,  and  fell  upon  her  knees  before  him, 
blinded  by  her  tears,  nigh  speechless  with  contending  joy 
and  fear. 


504  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  0  master,  master !  Thy  God  and  mine,  how  good 
he  is!" 

The  knowledge  we  gain  from  much  sympathy  with  others 
passing  through  trials  is  but  vaguely  understood  ;  strangely 
enough,  it  enables  us,  among  other  things,  to  merge  our 
identity  into  theirs  often  so  completely  that  their  sorrows 
and  their  delights  become  our  own.  So  poor  Amrah,  aloof 
and  hiding  her  face,  knew  the  transformation  the  lepers 
were  undergoing  without  a  word  spoken  to  her — knew  it, 
and  shared  all  their  feeling  to  the  full.  Her  countenance, 
her  words,  her  whole  manner,  betrayed  her  condition  ;  and 
with  swift  presentiment  he  connected  it  with  the  women 
he  had  just  passed  :  he  felt  her  presence  there  at  that  time 
was  in  some  way  associated  with  them,  and  turned  hastily 
as  they  arose  to  their  feet.  His  heart  stood  still ;  he  be 
came  rooted  in  his  tracks — dumb  past  outcry — awe-struck. 

The  woman  he  had  seen  before  the  Nazarene  was  stand 
ing  with  her  hands  clasped  and  eyes  streaming,  looking 
towards  heaven.  The  mere  transformation  would  have 
been  a  sufficient  surprise  ;  but  it  was  the  least  of  the  causes 
of  his  emotion.  Could  he  be  mistaken  ?  Never  was  there 
in  life  a  stranger  so  like  his  mother ;  and  like  her  as  she 
was  the  day  the  Roman  snatched  her  from  him.  There 
was  but  one  difference  to  mar  the  identity— the  hair  of  this 
person  was  a  little  streaked  with  gray ;  yet  that  was  not 
impossible  of  reconcilement,  since  the  intelligence  which 
had  directed  the  miracle  might  have  taken  into  considera 
tion  the  natural  effects  of  the  passage  of  years.  And  who 
was  it  by  her  side,  if  not  Tirzah  ? — fair,  beautiful,  perfect, 
more  mature,  but  in  all  other  respects  exactly  the  same  in 
appearance  as  when  she  looked  with  him  over  the  parapet 
the  morning  of  the  accident  to  Gratus.  He  had  given 
them  over  as  dead,  and  time  had  accustomed  him  to  the 
bereavement ;  he  had  not  ceased  mourning  for  them,  yet, 
as  something  distinguishable,  they  had  simply  dropped  out 
of  his  plans  and  dreams.  Scarcely  believing  his  senses,  he 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  servant's  head,  and  asked,  tremu 
lously, 

"  Amrah,  Amrah — my  mother  !  Tirzah  !  tell  me  if  I  see 
aright." 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE    OF  THE   CHRIST.  505 

"  Speak  to  them,  O  master,  speak  to  them !"  she  said. 

He  waited  no  longer,  but  ran,  with  outstretched  arms, 
crying,  "  Mother  !  mother  !  Tirzah  !  Here  I  am  !" 

They  heard  his  call,  and  with  a  cry  as  loving  started  to 
meet  him.  Suddenly  the  mother  stopped,  drew  back,  and 
uttered  the  old  alarm, 

"  Stay,  Judah,  my  son  ;  come  not  nearer.  Unclean,  un 
clean  !" 

The  utterance  was  not  from  habit,  grown  since  the  dread 
disease  struck  her,  as  much  as  fear ;  and  the  fear  was  but^ 
another  form  of  the  ever-thoughtful  maternal  love.  Though 
they  were  healed  in  person,  the  taint  of  the  scourge  might 
be  in  their  garments  ready  for  communication.  He  had  no 
such  thought.  They  were  before  him  ;  he  had  called  them, 
they  had  answered.  Who  or  what  should  keep  them  from 
him  now  ?  Next  moment  the  three,  so  long  separated, 
were  mingling  their  tears  in  each  other's  arms. 

The  first  ecstasy  over,  the  mother  said,  "  In  this  happi 
ness,  O  my  children,  let  us  not  be  ungrateful.  Let  us 
begin  life  anew  by  acknowledgment  of  him  to  whom  we 
are  all  so  indebted." 

They  fell  upon  their  knees,  Amrah  with  the  rest ;  and 
the  prayer  of  the  elder  outspoken  was  as  a  psalm. 

Tirzah  repeated  it  word  for  word ;  so  did  Ben-IIur,  but 
not  with  the  same  clear  mind  and  questionless  faith ;  for 
when  they  were  risen,  he  asked, 

"  In  Nazareth,  where  the  man  was  born,  mother,  they 
call  him  the  son  of  a  carpenter.  What  is  he  ?" 

Her  eyes  rested  upon  him  with  all  their  old  tenderness, 
and  she  answered  as  she  had  answered  the  Nazarene  him 
self— 

"  He  is  the  Messiah." 

"  And  whence  has  he  his  power  ?" 

"  We  may  know  by  the  use  he  makes  of  it.  Can  you 
tell  me  any  ill  he  has  done?" 

"  No." 

"  By  that  sign  then  I  answer,  He  has  his  power  from 
God." 

It  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  shake  off  in  a  moment  the 
expectations  nurtured  through  years  until  they  have  be- 


506  BEN-HtTR:  A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

come  essentially  a  part  of  us ;  and  though  Ben-Hur  asked 
himself  what  the  vanities  of  the  world  were  to  such  a  one, 
his  ambition  was  obdurate  and  would  not  down.  He  per 
sisted  as  men  do  yet  every  day  in  measuring  the  Christ 
by  himself.  How  much  better  if  we  measured  ourselves 
by  the  Christ ! 

Naturally,  the  mother  was  the  first  to  think  of  the  cares 
of  life. 

"  What  shall  we  do  now,  my  son  ?   Where  shall  we  go  ?" 

Then  Ben-Hur,  recalled  to  duty,  observed  how  com 
pletely  every  trace  of  the  scourge  had  disappeared  from 
his  restored  people ;  that  each  had  back  her  perfection  of 
person  ;  that,  as  with  Naaman  when  he  came  up  out  of  the 
water,  their  flesh  had  come  again  like  unto  the  flesh  of  a 
little  child ;  and  he  took  off  his  cloak,  and  threw  it  over 
Tirzah. 

"  Take  it,"  he  said,  smiling ;  "  the  eye  of  the  stranger 
would  have  shunned  you  before,  now  it  shall  not  offend 
you." 

The  act  exposed  a  sword  belted  to  his  side. 

"  Is  it  a  time  of  war  ?"  asked  the  mother,  anxiously. 

«  No." 

"  Why,  then,  are  you  armed  ?" 

"  It  may  be  necessary  to  defend  the  Nazarene." 

Thus  Ben-Hur  evaded  the  whole  truth. 

"  Has  he  enemies  ?     Who  are  they  ?" 

"  Alas,  mother,  they  are  not  all  Romans !" 

"  Is  he  not  of  Israel,  and  a  man  of  peace  ?" 

"  There  was  never  one  more  so ;  but  in  the  opinion  of 
the  rabbis  and  teachers  he  Is  guilty  of  a  great  crime." 

"  What  crime  ?" 

"  In  his  eyes  the  uncircumcised  Gentile  is  as  worthy 
favor  as  a  Jew  of  the  strictest  habit.  He  preaches  a  new 
dispensation." 

The  mother  was  silent,  and  they  moved  to  the  shade 
of  the  tree  by  the  rock.  Calming  his  impatience  to  have 
them  home  again  and  hear  their  story,  he  showed  them 
the  necessity  of  obedience  to  the  law  governing  in  cases 
like  theirs,  and  in  conclusion  called  the  Arab,  bidding  him 
take  the  horses  to  the  gate  by  Bethesda  and  await  him 


BEN-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  507 

there ;  whereupon  they  set  out  by  the  way  of  the  Mount 
of  Offence.  The  return  was  very  different  from  the  com 
ing  ;  they  walked  rapidly  and  with  ease,  and  in  good  time 
reached  a  tomb  newly  made  near  that  of  Absalom,  over 
looking  the  depths  of  Cedron.  Finding  it  unoccupied, 
the  women  took  possession,  while  he  went  on  hastily  to 
make  the  preparations  necessary  for  their  new  condition. 


CHAPTER  V. 

BEN-HUR  pitched  two  tents  out  on  the  Upper  Cedron 
east  a  short  space  of  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings,  and  furnished 
them  with  every  comfort  at  his  command ;  and  thither, 
without  loss  of  time,  he  conducted  his  mother  and  sister, 
to  remain  until  the  examining  priest  could  certify  their 
perfect  cleansing. 

In  course  of  the  duty,  the  young  man  had  subjected 
himself  to  such  serious  defilement  as  to  debar  him  from 
participation  in  the  ceremonies  of  the  great  feast,  then 
near  at  hand.  He  could  not  enter  the  least  sacred  of  the 
courts  of  the  Temple.  Of  necessity,  not  less  than  choice, 
therefore,  he  stayed  at  the  tents  with  his  beloved  people. 
There  was  a  great  deal  to  hear  from  them,  and  a  great  deal 
to  tell  them  of  himself. 

Stories  such  as  theirs — sad  experiences  extending  through 
a  lapse  of  years,  sufferings  of  body,  acuter  sufferings  of 
mind — arc  iisually  long  in  the  telling,  the  incidents  seldom 
following  each  other  in  threaded  connection.  He  listened 
to  the  narrative  and  all  they  told  him,  with  outward  pa 
tience  masking  inward  feeling.  In  fact,  his  hatred  of 
Rome  and  Romans  reached  a  higher  mark  than  ever ;  his 
desire  for  vengeance  became  a  thirst  which  attempts  at 
reflection  only  intensified.  In  the  almost  savage  bitterness 
of  his  humor  many  mad  impulses  took  hold  of  him.  The 
opportunities  of  the  highways  presented  themselves  with 
singular  force  of  temptation  ;  he  thought  seriously  of  insur 
rection  in  Galilee  ;  even  the  sea,  ordinarily  a  retrospective 
horror  to  him,  stretched  itself  map-like  before  his  fancy, 
laced  and  interlaced  with  lines  of  passage  crowded  with 


508  BEN-HUK:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

imperial  plunder  and  imperial  travellers;  but  the  better 
judgment  matured  in  calmer  hours  was  happily  too  firmly 
fixed  to  be  supplanted  by  present  passion  however  strong. 
Each  mental  venture  in  reach  of  new  expedients  brought 
him  back  to  the  old  conclusion — that  there  could  be  no 
sound  success  except  in  a  war  involving  all  Israel  in  solid 
union ;  and  all  musing  upon  the  subject,  all  inquiry,  all 
hope,  ended  where  they  began— in  the  Nazarene  and  his 
purposes. 

At  odd  moments  the  excited  schemer  found  a  pleasure 
in  fashioning  a  speech  for  that  person  : 

"  Hear,  O  Israel !  I  am  he,  the  promised  of  God,  born 
King  of  the  Jews — come  to  you  with  the  dominion  spoken 
of  by  the  prophets.  Rise  now,  and  lay  hold  on  the  world  !" 

Would  the  Nazarene  but  speak  these  few  words,  what  a 
tumult  would  follow  !  How  many  mouths  performing  the 
office  of  trumpets  would  take  them  up  and  blow  them 
abroad  for  the  massing  of  armies  ! 

Would  he  speak  them  ? 

And  eager  to  begin  the  work,  and  answering  in  the 
worldly  way,  Ben-Hur  lost  sight  of  the  double  nature  of 
the  man,  and  of  the  other  possibility,  that  the  divine  in 
him  might  transcend  the  human.  In  the  miracle  of  which 
Tirzah  and  his  mother  were  the  witnesses  even  more  nearly 
than  himself,  he  saw  and  set  apart  and  dwelt  upon  a  power 
ample  enough  to  raise  and  support  a  Jewish  crown  over  the 
wrecks  of  the  Italian,  and  more  than  ample  to  remodel  so 
ciety,  and  convert  mankind  into  one  purified  happy  family ; 
and  when  that  work  was  done,  could  any  one  say  the  peace 
which  might  then  be  ordered  without  hindrance  was  not  a 
mission  worthy  a  son  of  God  ?  Could  any  one  then  deny 
the  Eedeemership  of  the  Christ  ?  And  discarding  all  con 
sideration  of  political  consequences,  what  unspeakable  per 
sonal  glory  there  would  then  be  to  him  as  a  man  !  It  was 
not  in  the  nature  of  any  mere  mortal  to  refuse  such  a 
career. 

Meantime  down  the  Cedron,  and  in  towards  Bezetha, 
especially  on  the  roadsides  quite  up  to  the  Damascus  Gate, 
the  country  filled  rapidly  with  all  kinds  of  temporary  shel 
ters  for  pilgrims  to  the  Passover.  Ben-Hur  visited  the 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  509 

strangers,  and  talked  with  them  ;  and  returning  to  his  tents, 
he  was  each  time  more  and  more  astonished  at  the  vastness 
of  their  numbers.  And  when  he  further  discovered  that 
every  part  of  the  world  was  represented  among  them — 
cities  upon  both  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  far  off  as  the 
Pillars  of  the  West,  river-towns  in  distant  India,  provinces 
in  northernmost  Europe  ;  and  that,  though  they  frequently 
saluted  him  with  tongues  unacquainted  with  a  syllable  of 
the  old  Hebrew  of  the  fathers,  these  representatives  had  all 
the  same  object — celebration  of  the  notable  feast — an  idea 
tinged  mistily  with  superstitious  fancy  forced  itself  upon 
him.  Might  he  not  after  all  have  misunderstood  the  Naza- 
rene  ?  Might  not  that  person  by  patient  waiting  be  cover 
ing  silent  preparation,  and  proving  his  fitness  for  the  glori 
ous  task  before  him  ?  How  much  better  this  time  for  the 
movement  than  that  other  when,  by  Gennesaret,  the  Gali 
leans  would  have  forced  assumption  of  the  crown  !  Then 
the  support  would  have  been  limited  to  a  few  thousands ; 
now  his  proclamation  would  be  responded  to  by  millions — 
who  could  say  how  many  ?  Pursuing  this  theory  to  its 
conclusions,  Ben-IIur  moved  amidst  brilliant  promises,  and 
glowed  with  the  thought  that  the  melancholy  man,  under 
gentle  seeming  and  wondrous  self-denial,  was  in  fact  carry 
ing  in  disguise  the  subtlety  of  a  politician  and  the  genius 
of  a  soldier. 

Several  times  also,  in  the  meanwhile,  low-set,  brawny  men, 
bareheaded  and  black-bearded,  came  and  asked  for  Ben- 
Hur  at  the  tent ;  his  interviews  Avith  them  were  always 
apart ;  and  to  his  mother's  question  who  they  were  he  an 
swered, 

"  Some  good  friends  of  mine  from  Galilee." 
Through  them  he  kept  informed  of  the  movements  of 
the  Nazarene,  and  of  the  schemes  of  the  Nazarene's  enemies, 
Rabbinical  and  Roman.  That  the  good  man's  life  was  in 
danger,  he  knew ;  but  that  there  were  any  bold  enough  to 
attempt  to  take  it  at  that  time,  he  could  not  believe.  It 
seemed  too  securely  intrenched  in  a  great  fame  and  an  as 
sured  popularity.  The  very  vastness  of  the  attendance  in 
and  about  the  city  brought  with  it  a  seeming  guaranty  of 
safety.  And  yet,  to  say  truth,  Ben-Hur's  confidence  rested 


510  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

most  certainly  upon  the  miraculous  power  of  the  Christ. 
Pondering  the  subject  in  the  purely  human  view,  that  the 
master  of  such  authority  over  life  and  death,  used  so  fre 
quently  for  the  good  of  others,  would  not  exert  it  in  care 
of  himself  was  simply  as  much  past  belief  as  it  was  past 
understanding. 

Nor  should  it  be  forgotten  that  all  these  were  incidents 
of  occurrence  between  the  twenty-first  day  of  March — 
counting  by  the  modern  calendar  —  and  the  twenty -fifth. 
The  evening  of  the  latter  day  Ben-Hur  yielded  to  his  im 
patience,  and  rode  to  the  city,  leaving  behind  him  a  prom 
ise  to  return  in  the  night. 

The  horse  was  fresh,  and,  choosing  his  own  gait,  sped 
swiftly.  The  eyes  of  the  clambering  vines  winked  at  the 
rider  from  the  garden  fences  on  the  way ;  there  was  noth 
ing  else  to  see  him,  nor  child  nor  woman  nor  man.  Through 
the  rocky  float  in  the  hollows  of  the  road  the  agate  hoofs 
drummed,  ringing  like  cups  of  steel ;  but  without  notice 
from  any  stranger.  In  the  houses  passed  there  were  no 
tenants  ;  the  fires  by  the  tent-doors  were  out ;  the  road  was 
deserted  ;  for  this  was  the  first  Passover  eve,  and  the  hour 
"  between  the  evenings  "  when  the  visiting  millions  crowded 
the  city,  and  the  slaughter  of  lambs  in  offering  reeked  the 
forecourts  of  the  Temple,  and  the  priests  in  ordered  lines 
caught  the  flowing  blood  and  carried  it  swiftly  to  the  drip 
ping  altars — when  all  was  haste  and  hurry,  racing  with  the 
stars  fast  coining  with  the  signal  after  which  the  roasting 
and  the  eating  and  the  singing  might  go  on,  but  not  the 
preparation  more. 

Through  the  great  northern  gate  the  rider  rode,  and  lo  ! 
Jerusalem  before  the  fall,  in  ripeness  of  glory,  illuminated 
for  the  Lord. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

BEN-HUR  alighted  at  the  gate  of  the  khan  from  which 
the  three  AVise  Men  more  than  thirty  years  before  departed, 
going  down  to  Bethlehem.  There,  in  keeping  of  his  Arab 
followers,  he  left  the  horse,  and  shortly  after  was  at  the 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  511 

wicket  of  his  father's  house,  and  in  a  yet  briefer  space  in 
the  great  chamber.  He  called  for  Malluch  first ;  that  worthy 
being  out,  he  sent  a  salutation  to  his  friends  the  merchant 
and  the  Egyptian.  They  were  being  carried  abroad  to  see 
the  celebration.  The  latter,  he  was  informed,  was  very 
feeble*,  and  in  a  state  of  deep  dejection. 

Young  people  of  that  time  who  were  supposed  hardly 
to  know  their  own  hearts  indulged  the  habit  of  politic  in 
direction  quite  as  much  as  young  people  in  the  same  con 
dition  indulge  it  in  this  time ;  so  when  Ben-Hur  inquired 
for  the  good  Balthasar,  and  with  grave  courtesy  desired  to 
know  if  he  would  be  pleased  to  see  him,  he  really  addressed 
the  daughter  a  notice  of  his  arrival.  While  the  servant 
was  answering  for  the  elder,  the  curtain  of  the  doorway 
was  drawn  aside,  and  the  younger  Egyptian  came  in,  and 
walked — or  floated,  upborne  in  a  white  cloud  of  the  gauzy 
raiment  she  so  loved  and  lived  in — to  the  centre  of  the 
chamber,  where  the  light  cast  by  lamps  from  the  seven- 
armed  brazen  stick  planted  upon  the  floor  was  the  strong 
est.  With  her  there  was  no  fear  of  light. 

The  servant  left  the  two  alone. 

In  the  excitement  occasioned  by  the  events  of  the  few 
days  past  Ben-Hur  had  scarcely  given  a  thought  to  the 
fair  Egyptian.  If  she  came  to  his  mind  at  all,  it  was  merely 
as  a  briefest  pleasure,  a  suggestion  of  a  delight  which  could 
wait  for  him,  and  was  waiting. 

But  now  the  influence  of  the  woman  revived  with  all  its 
force  the  instant  Ben-Hur  beheld  her.  He  advanced  to 
her  eagerly,  but  stopped  and  gazed.  Such  a  change  he  had 
never  seen ! 

Theretofore  she  had  been  a  lover  studious  to  win  him — 
in  manner  all  warmth,  each  glance  an  admission,  each  ac 
tion  an  avowal.  She  had  showered  him  with  incense  of 
flattery.  AVhile  he  was  present,  she  had  impressed  him 
with  her  admiration ;  going  away,  he  carried  the  impres 
sion  with  him  to  remain  a  delicious  expectancy  hastening 
his  return.  It  was  for  him  the  painted  eyelids  drooped 
lowest  over  the  lustrous  almond  eyes ;  for  him  the  love- 
stories  caught  from  the  professionals  abounding  in  the 
streets  of  Alexandria  were  repeated  with  emphasis  and 


512  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

lavislimcnt  of  poetry ;  for  him  endless  exclamations  of 
sympathy,  and  smiles,  and  little  privileges  with  hand  and 
hair  and  cheek  and  lips,  and  songs  of  the  Nile,  and  displays 
of  jewelry,  and  subtleties  of  lace  in  veils  and  scarfs,  and 
other  subtleties  not  less  exquisite  in  flosses  of  Indian  silk. 
The  idea,  old  as  the  oldest  of  peoples,  that  beauty  is  the 
reward  of  the  hero  had  never  such  realism  as  she  contrived 
for  his  pleasure  ;  insomuch  that  he  could  not  doubt  he  was 
her  hero ;  she  avouched  it  in  a  thousand  artful  ways  as 
natural  with  her  as  her  beauty — winsome  ways  reserved,  it 
would  seem,  by  the  passionate  genius  of  old  Egypt  for  its 
daughters. 

Such  the  Egyptian  had  been  to  Ben-IIur  from  the  night 
of  the  boat-ride  on  the  lake  in  the  Orchard  of  Palms.  But 
now ! 

Elsewhere  in  this  volume  the  reader  may  have  observed 
a  term  of  somewhat  indefinite  meaning  used  reverently  in 
a  sacred  connection  ;  we  repeat  it  now  with  a  general  appli 
cation.  There  are  few  persons  who  have  not  a  double  nat- 
ii IT,  the  real  and  the  acquired  ;  the  latter  a  kind  of  adden 
dum  resulting  from  education^  which  in  time  often  perfects 
it  into  a  part  of  the  being  as  unquestionable  as  the  first. 
Leaving  the  thought  to  the  thoughtful,  we  proceed  to  say 
that  now  the  real  nature  of  the  Egyptian  made  itself  mani 
fest. 

It  was  not  possible  for  her  to  have  received  a  stranger 
with  repulsion  more  incisive ;  yet  she  was  apparently  as 
passionless  as  a  statue,  only  the  small  head  was  a  little 
tilted,  the  nostrils  a  little  drawn,  and  the  sensuous  lower 
lip  pushed  the  upper  the  least  bit  out  of  its  natural  curva 
ture. 

She  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Your  coming  is  timely,  O  son  of  Hur,"  she  said,  in  a 
voice  sharply  distinct.  "  I  wish  to  thank  you  for  hospi 
tality  ;  after  to-morrow  I  may  not  have  the  opportunity  to 
do  so." 

Ben-Hur  bowed  slightly  without  taking  his  eyes  from 
her. 

"  I  have  heard  of  a  custom  which  the  dice-players  ob- 
perve  with  good  result  among  themselves,"  she  continued. 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  513 

"  When  the  game  is  over,  they  refer  to  their  tablets  and 
cast  up  their  accounts ;  then  they  libate  the  gods  and  put 
a  crown  upon  the  happy  winner.  We  have  had  a  game — 
it  has  lasted  through  many  days  and  nights.  Why,  now 
that  it  is  at  an  end,  shall  not  we  see  to  which  the  chaplet 
belongs  ?" 

Yet  very  watchful,  Ben-Hur  answered,  lightly,  "  A  man 
may  not  balk  a  woman  bent  on  having  her  way." 

"  Tell  me,"  she  continued,  inclining  her  head,  and  per 
mitting  the  sneer  to  become  positive — "  tell  me,  O  prince 
of  Jerusalem,  where  is  he,  that  son  of  the  carpenter  of 
Nazareth,  and  son  not  less  of  God,  from  whom  so  lately 
such  mighty  things  were  expected  ?" 

He  waved  his  hand  impatiently,  and  replied,  "  I  am  not 
his  keeper." 

The  beautiful  head  sank  forward  yet  lower. 

"  lias  he  broken  Rome  to  pieces  ?" 

Again,  but  with  anger,  Ben-IIur  raised  his  hand  in  dep 
recation. 

"  Where  has  he  seated  his  capital  ?"  she  proceeded. 
"  Cannot  I  go  see  his  throne  and  its  lions  of  bronze  ?  And 
his  palace — he  raised  the  dead ;  and  to  such  a  one,  what 
is  it  to  raise  a  golden  house  ?  He  has  but  to  stamp  his 
foot  and  say  the  word,  and  the  house  is,  pillared  like  Kar- 
nak,  and  wanting  nothing." 

There  was  by  this  time  slight  ground  left  to  believe  her 
playing ;  the  questions  were  offensive,  and  her  manner 
pointed  with  unfriendliness ;  seeing  which,  he  on  his  side 
became  more  wary,  and  said,  with  good-humor,  "  0  Egypt, 
let  us  wait  another  day,  even  another  week,  for  him,  the 
lions,  and  the  palace." 

She  went  on  without  noticing  the  suggestion. 

"  And  how  is  it  I  sec  you  in  that  garb  ?  Such  is  not  the 
habit  of  governors  in  India  or  vice-kings  elsewhere.  I  saw 
the  satrap  of  Teheran  once,  and  he  wore  a  turban  of  silk 
and  a  cloak  of  cloth  of  gold,  and  the  hilt  and  scabbard  of 
his  sword  made  me  dizzy  with  their  splendor  of  precious 
stones.  I  thought  Osiris  had  lent  him  a  glory  from  the 
sun.  I  fear  you  have  not  entered  upon  your  kingdom — 
the  kingdom  I  was  to  share  with  you." 
33 


514  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  The  daughter  of  my  wise  guest  is  kinder  than  she  im 
agines  herself;  she  is  teaching  me  that  Isis  may  kiss  a 
heart  without  making  it  better." 

Ben-Hur  spoke  with  cold  courtesy,  and  Iras,  after  play 
ing  with  the  pendent  solitaire  of  her  necklace  of  coins,  re 
joined,  "  For  a  Jew,  the  son  of  Hur  is  clever.  I  saw  your 
dreaming  Caesar  make  his  entry  into  Jerusalem.  You  told 
us  he  would  that  day  proclaim  himself  King  of  the  Jews 
from  the  steps  of  the  Temple.  I  beheld  the  procession  de 
scend  the  mountain  bringing  him.  I  heard  their  singing. 
They  were  beautiful  with  palms  in  motion.  I  looked  every 
where  among  them  for  a  figure  with  a  promise  of  royalty 
— a  horseman  in  purple,  a  chariot  with  a  driver  in  shining 
brass,  a  stately  warrior  behind  an  orbed  shield,  rivalling  his 
spear  in  stature.  I  looked  for  his  guard.  It  would  have 
been  pleasant  to  have  seen  a  prince  of  Jerusalem  and  a  co 
hort  of  the  legions  of  Galilee." 

She  flung  her  listener  a  glance  of  provoking  disdain,  then 
laughed  heartily,  as  if  the  ludicrousness  of  the  picture  in 
her  mind  were  too  strong  for  contempt. 

"  Instead  of  a  Sesostris  returning  in  triumph  or  a  Caesar 
helmed  and  sworded — ha,  ha,  ha ! — I  saw  a  man  with  a 
woman's  face  and  hair,  riding  an  ass's  colt,  and  in  tears. 
The  King !  the  Son  of  God !  the  Redeemer  of  the  world ! 
Ha,  ha,  ha !" 

In  spite  of  himself,  Ben-Hur  winced. 

"  I  did  not  quit  my  place,  O  prince  of  Jerusalem,"  she 
said,  before  he  could  recover.  "  I  did  not  laugh.  I  said 
to  myself,  '  Wait.  In  the  Temple  he  will  glorify  himself 
as  becomes  a  hero  about  to  take  possession  of  the  world.' 
I  saw  him  enter  the  Gate  of  Shushan  and  the  Court  of  the 
Women.  I  saw  him  stop  and  stand  before  the  Gate  Beau 
tiful.  There  were  people  with  me  on  the  porch  and  in  the 
courts,  and  on  the  cloisters  and  on  the  steps  of  the  three 
sides  of  the  Temple  there  were  other  people — I  will  say  a 
million  of  people,  all  waiting  breathlessly  to  hear  his  proc 
lamation.  The  pillars  were  not  more  still  than  we.  Ha, 
ha,  ha  !  I  fancied  I  heard  the  axles  of  the  mighty  Roman 
machine  begin  to  crack.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  O  prince,  by  the 
soul  of  Solomon,  your  King  of  the  World  drew  his  gown 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  515 

about  him  and  walked  away,  and  out  by  the  farthest  gate, 
nor  opened  his  mouth  to  say  a  word ;  and — the  Roman 
machine  is  running  yet !" 

In  simple  homage  to  a  hope  that  instant  lost — a  hope 
which,  as  it  began  to  fall  and  while  it  was  falling,  he  un 
consciously  followed  with  a  parting  look  down  to  its  dis 
appearance — Bcn-Hur  lowered  his  eyes. 

At  no  previous  time,  whether  when  Balthasar  was  ply 
ing  him  with  arguments,  or  when  miracles  were  being  done 
before  his  face,  had  the  disputed  nature  of  the  Nazarene 
been  so  plainly  set  before  him.  TheJ>est  way,  after  all,  to 
reach  an  understanding  of  the  divine  is  by  study  of  the  hu 
man.  In  the  things  superior  to  men  we  may  always  look 
to  find  God.  So  with  the  picture  given  by  the  Egyptian 
of  the  scene  when  the  Nazarene  turned  from  the  Gate  Beau 
tiful  ;  its  central  theme  was  an  act  utterly  beyond  perform 
ance  by  a  man  under  control  of  merely  human  inspirations. 
A  parable  to  a  parable-loving  people,  it  taught  what  the 
Christ  had  so  often  asserted — that  his  mission  was  not  po 
litical.  There  was  not  much  more  time  for  thought  of  all 
this  than  that  alloAved  for  a  common  respiration  ;  yet  the 
idea  took  fast  hold  of  Ben-llur,  and  in  the  same  instant  he 
followed  his  hope  of  vengeance  out  of  sight,  and  the  man 
with  the  woman's  face  and  hair,  and  in  tears,  came  near  to 
him — near  enough  to  leave  something  of  his  spirit  behind. 

"  Daughter  of  Balthasar,"  he  said,  with  dignity,  "  if  this 
be  the  game  of  which  you  spoke  to  me,  take  the  chaplet — 
I  accord  it  yours.  Only  let  us  make  an  end  of  words. 
That  you  have  a  purpose  I  am  sure.  To  it,  I  pray,  and  I 
will  answer  you  ;  then  let  us  go  our  several  ways,  and  for 
get  we  ever  met.  Say  on ;  I  will  listen,  but  not  to  more 
of  that  which  you  have  given  me." 

She  regarded  him  intently  a  moment,  as  if  determining 
what  to  do — possibly  she  might  have  been  measuring  his 
will — then  she  said,  coldly,  "  You  have  my  leave — go." 

"  Peace  to  you,"  he  responded,  and  walked  away. 

As  he  was  about  passing  out  of  the  door,  she  called  to 
him. 

"  A  word." 

He  stopped  where  he  was,  and  looked  back. 


516  BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

"  Consider  all  I  know  about  you." 

"  O  most  fair  Egyptian,"  lie  said,  returning,  "  what  all 
do  you  know  about  me  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  absently. 

"  You  are  more  of  a  Roman,  son  of  Ilur,  than  any  of 
your  Hebrew  brethren." 

"  Am  I  so  unlike  my  countrymen  ?"  he  asked,  indiffer 
ently. 

"  The  dcmi-gods  are  all  Roman  now,"  she  rejoined. 

"  And  therefore  you  will  tell  me  what  more  you  know 
about  me  ?" 

"  The  likeness  is  not  lost  upon  me.  It  might  induce 
me  to  save  you." 

"  Save  me !" 

The  pink-stained  fingers  toyed  daintily  with  the  lustrous 
pendant  at  the  throat,  and  her  voice  was  exceeding  low  and 
soft ;  only  a  tapping  on  the  floor  with  her  silken  sandal 
admonished  him  to  have  a  care. 

"  There  was  a  Jew,  an  escaped  galley-slave,  who  killed  a 
man  in  the  Palace  of  Idernee,"  she  began,  slowly. 

Ben-Hur  was  startled. 

"  The  same  Jew  slew  a  Roman  soldier  before  the  Market 
place  here  in  Jerusalem ;  the  same  Jew  has  three  trained 
legions  from  Galilee  to  seize  the  Roman  governor  to-night ; 
the  same  Jew  has  alliances  perfected  for  war  upon  Rome, 
and  llderim  the  Sheik  is  one  of  his  partners." 

Drawing  nearer  him,  she  almost  whispered, 

"  You  have  lived  in  Rome.  Suppose  these  things  re 
peated  in  ears  we  know  of.  Ah  !  you  change  color." 

He  drew  back  from  her  with  somewhat  of  the  look  which 
may  be  imagined  upon  the  face  of  a  man  who,  thinking  to 
play  with  a  kitten,  has  run  upon  a  tiger ;  and  she  pro 
ceeded  : 

"  You  are  acquainted  in  the  antechamber,  and  know  the 
Lord  Sejanus.  Suppose  it  were  told  him  with  the  proofs 
in  hand — or  without  the  proofs — that  the  same  Jew  is  the 
richest  man  in  the  East — nay,  in  all  the  empire.  The  fishes 
of  the  Tiber  would  have  fattening  other  than  that  they  dig 
out  of  its  ooze,  would  they  not  ?  And  while  they  were 
feeding — ha  !  son  of  Hur  ! — what  splendor  there  would  be 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  517 

on  exhibition  in  the  Circus !  Amusing  the  Roman  people 
is  a  fine  art ;  getting  the  money  to  keep  them  amused  is 
another  art  even  finer ;  and  was  there  ever  an  artist  the 
equal  of  the  Lord  Sejanus  ?" 

Ben-llur  was  not  too  much  stirred  by  the  evident  base 
ness  of  the  woman  for  recollection.  Not  unfrequently 
when  all  the  other  faculties  are  numb  and  failing, memory 
does  its  offices  with  the  greatest  fidelity.  The  scene  at  the 
spring  on  the  way  to  the  Jordan  reproduced  itself  ;  and  he 
remembered  thinking  then  that  Esther  had  betrayed  him, 
and  thinking  so  now,  he  said  calmly  as  he  could, 

"  To  give  you  pleasure,  daughter  of  Egypt,  I  acknowledge 
your  cunning,  and  that  I  am  at  your  mercy.  It  may  also 
please  you  to  hear  me  acknowledge  I  have  no  hope  of  your 
favor.  I  could  kill  you,  but  you  are  a  woman.  The  Desert 
is  open  to  receive  me  ;  and  though  Rome  is  a  good  hunter 
of  men,  there  she  would  follow  long  and  far  before  she 
caught  me,  for  in  its  heart  there  are  wildernesses  of  spears 
as  well  as  wildernesses  of  sand,  and  it  is  not  unlovely  to 
the  unconquercd  Parthian.  In  the  toils  as  I  am — dupe 
that  I  have  been — yet  there  is  one  thing  my  due  :  who  told 
you  all  you  know  about  me  ?  In  flight  or  captivity,  dying 
even,  there  will  be  consolation  in  leaving  the  traitor  the 
curse  of  a  man  who  has  lived  knowing  nothing  but  wretch 
edness.  Who  told  you  all  you  know  about  me  ?" 

It  might  have  been  a  touch  of  art,  or  might  have  been 
sincere — that  as  it  may — the  expression  of  the  Egyptian's 
face  became  sympathetic. 

"  There  are  in  my  country,  0  son  of  Ilur,"  she  said,  pres 
ently,  "  workmen  who  make  pictures  by  gathering  vari-col- 
orcd  shells  here  and  there  on  the  sea-shore  after  storms, 
and  cutting  them  up,  and  patching  the  pieces  as  inlaying 
on  marble  slabs.  Can  you  not  see  the  hint  there  is  in  the 
practice  to  such  as  go  searching  for  secrets  ?  Enough  that 
from  this  person  I  gathered  a  handful  of  little  circumstances, 
and  from  that  other  yet  another  handful,  and  that  afterwhile 
I  put  them  together,  and  Avas  happy  as  a  woman  can  be  who 
has  at  disposal  the  fortune  and  life  of  a  man  whom" — she 
stopped,  and  beat  the  floor  with  her  foot,  and  looked  away 
as  if  to  hide  a  sudden  emotion  from  him ;  with  an  air  of 


518  BEN-IIUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

even  painful  resolution  she  presently  finished  the  sentence 
— "  whom  she  is  at  loss  what  to  do  with." 

"  No,  it  is  not  enough,"  Ben-IIur  said,  unmoved  by  the 
play — "  it  is  not  enough.  To-morrow  you  will  determine 
what  to  do  with  me.  I  may  die." 

"  True,"  she  rejoined  quickly  and  with  emphasis,  "  I  had 
something  from  Sheik  Ilderim  as  he  lay  with  my  father  in 
a  grove  out  in  the  Desert.  The  night  was  still,  very  still, 
and  the  walls  of  the  tent,  sooth  to  say,  were  poor  ward 
against  ears  outside  listening  to- — birds  and  beetles  flying 
through  the  air." 

She  smiled  at  the  conceit,  but  proceeded  : 

"  Some  other  things — bits  of  shell  for  the  picture — I 
had  from — " 

«  Whom  ?" 

"  The  son  of  Hur  himself." 

"  Was  there  no  other  who  contributed  ?" 

"  No,  not  one." 

Hur  drew  a  breath  of  relief,  and  said,  lightly,  "  Thanks. 
It  were  not  well  to  keep  the  Lord  Sejanus  waiting  for  you. 
The  Desert  is  not  so  sensitive^  Again,  O  Egypt,  peace  !" 

To  this  time  he  had  been  standing  uncovered ;  now  he 
took  the  handkerchief  from  his  arm  where  it  had  been 
hanging,  and  adjusting  it  upon  his  head,  turned  to  depart. 
But  she  arrested  him ;  in  her  eagerness,  she  even  reached 
a  hand  to  him. 

"  Stay,"  she  said. 

He  looked  back  at  her,  but  without  taking  the  hand, 
though  it  was  very  noticeable  for  its  sparkling  of  jewels ; 
and  he  knew  by  her  manner  that  the  reserved  point  of  the 
scene  which  was  so  surprising  to  him  was  now  to  come. 

"  Stay,  and  do  not  distrust  me,  O  son  of  Hur,  if  I  declare 
I  know  why  the  noble  Arrius  took  you  for  his  heir.  And, 
by  Isis !  by  all  the  gods  of  Egypt !  I  swear  I  tremble  to 
think  of  you,  so  brave  and  generous,  under  the  hand  of  the 
remorseless  minister.  You  have  left  a  portion  of  your 
youth  in  the  atria  of  the  great  capital ;  consider,  as  I  do, 
what  the  Desert  will  be  to  you  in  contrast  of  life.  Oh,  I 
give  you  pity — pity  !  And  if  you  but  do  what  I  say,  I  will 
save  you.  That,  also,  I  swear,  by  our  holy  Isis  !" 


BEX-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  519 

Words  of  entreaty  and  prayer  these,  poured  forth  vol 
ubly  and  with  earnestness  and  the  mighty  sanction  of 
beauty. 

"  Almost — almost  I  believe  you,"  Ben-IIur  said,  yet  hes 
itatingly,  and  in  a  voice  low  and  indistinct ;  for  a  doubt 
remained  with  him  grumbling  against  the  yielding  ten 
dency  of  the  man — a  good  sturdy  doubt,  such  a  one  as  has 
saved  many  a  life  and  fortune. 

"  The  perfect  life  for  a  woman  is  to  live  in  love  ;  the 
greatest  happiness  for  a  man  is  the  conquest  of  himself ; 
and  that,  O  prince,  is  what  I  have  to  ask  of  you." 

She  spoke  rapidly,  and  with  animation  ;  indeed,  she  had 
never  appeared  to  him  so  fascinating. 

"  You  had  once  a  friend,"  she  continued.  "  It  was  in 
your  boyhood.  There  was  a  quarrel,  and  you  and  he  be 
came  enemies.  He  did  you  wrong.  After  many  years 
you  met  him  again  in  the  Circus  at  Antioch." 

"  Mcssala !" 

"  Yes,  Messala.  You  are  his  creditor.  Forgive  the  past ; 
admit  him  to  friendship  again ;  restore  the  fortune  he  lost 
in  the  great  wager ;  rescue"  him.  The  six  talents  are  as 
nothing  to  you  ;  not  so  much  as  a  bud  lost  upon  a  tree  al 
ready  in  full  leaf ;  but  to  him —  Ah,  he  must  go  about 
with  a  broken  body  ;  wherever  you  meet  him  he  must  look 
up  to  you  from  the  ground.  O  Ben-IIur,  noble  prince  !  to 
a  Roman  descended  as  he  is  beggary  is  the  other  most 
odious  name  for  death.  Save  him  from  beggary  !" 

If  the  rapidity  with  which  she  spoke  was  a  cunning  in 
vention  to  keep  him  from  thinking,  either  she  never  knew 
or  else  had  forgotten  that  there  are  convictions  which  dc- 
live_npthing  from  thought,  but  drop  into  place  without 
leave  or  qfliice,  It  seemed  to  him,  when  at  last  she  paused" 
to  have  his  answer,  that  he  could  see  Messala  himself  peer 
ing  at  him  over  her  shoulder ;  and  in  its  expression  the 
countenance  of  the  Roman  was  not  that  of  a  mendicant  or 
a  friend ;  the  sneer  was  as  patrician  as  ever,  and  the  fine 
edge  of  the  hauteur  as  flawless  and  irritating. 

"  The  appeal  has  been  decided  then,  and  for  once  a  Mes 
sala  takes  nothing.  I  must  go  and  write  it  in  my  book  of 
great  occurrences — a  judgment  by  a  Roman  against  a  Ro- 


520  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

man !  But  did  he — did  Messala  send  you  to  me  with  this 
request,  O  Egypt  ?" 

"  He  has  a  noble  nature,  and  judged  you  by  it." 

Ben-Hur  took  the  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  As  you  know  him  in  such  friendly  way,  fair  Egyptian, 
tell  me,  would  he  do  for  me,  there  being  a  reversal  of  the 
conditions,  that  he  asks  of  me  ?  Answer,  by  Isis !  An 
swer,  for  the  truth's  sake  !" 

There  was  insistence  in  the  touch  of  his  hand,,  and  in  his 
look  also. 

"  Oh  !"  she  began,  "  he  is—" 

"  A  Roman,  you  were  about  to  say ;  meaning  that  I,  a 
Jew,  must  not  determine  dues  from  me  to  him  by  any 
measure  of  dues  from  him  to  me  ;  being  a  Jew,  I  must  for 
give  him  my  winnings  because  he  is  a  Roman.  If  you 
have  more  to  tell  me,  daughter  of  Balthasar,  speak  quickly, 
quickly ;  for  by  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  when  this  heat  of 
blood,  hotter  waxing,  attains  its  highest,  I  may  not  be  able 
longer  to  see  that  you  are  a  woman,  and  beautiful !  I  may 
see  but  the  spy  of  a  master  the  more  hateful  because  the 
master  is  a  Roman.  Say  on,  and  quickly." 

She  threw  his  hand  off  and  stepped  back  into  the  full 
light,  with  all  the  evil  of  her  nature  collected  in  her  eyes 
and  voice. 

"  Thou  drinker  of  lees,  feeder  upon  husks  !  To  think  I 
could  love  thee,  having  seen  Messala !  Such  as  thou  were 
born  to  serve  him.  He  would  have  been  satisfied  with  re 
lease  of  the  six  talents  ;  but  I  say  to  the  six  thou  shalt  add 
twenty — twenty,  dost  thou  hear  ?  The  kissings  of  my  lit 
tle  finger  which  thou  hast  taken  from  him,  though  with 
my  consent,  shall  be  paid  for ;  and  that  I  have  followed 
thee  with  affectation  of  sympathy,  and  endured  thee  so 
long,  enter  into  the  account  not  less  because  I  was  serving 
him.  The  merchant  here  is  thy  keeper  of  moneys.  If  by 
to-morrow  at  noon  he  has  not  thy  order  acted  upon  in  favor 
of  my  Messala  for  six-and-twenty  talents — mark  the  sum  ! 
— thou  shalt  settle  with  the  Lord  Sejanus.  Be  wise  and — 
farewell" 

As  she  was  going  to  the  door,  he  put  himself  in  her 
wav. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  521 

"  The  old  Egypt  lives  in  yon,"  he  said.  "  Whether  you 
see  Messala  to-morrow  or  the  next  day,  here  or  in  Koine, 
give  him  this  message.  Tell  him  I  have  back  the  money, 
even  the  six  talents,  he  robbed  me  of  by  robbing  my  fa 
ther's  estate ;  tell  him  I  survived  the  galleys  to  Avhich  he 
had  me  sent,  and  in  my  strength  rejoice  in  his  beggary  and 
dishonor ;  tell  him  I  think  the  affliction  of  body  which  he 
has  from  my  hand  is  the  curse  of  our  Lord  God  of  Israel 
upon  him  more  fit  than  death  for  his  crimes  against  the 
helpless  ;  tell  him  my  mother  and  sister  whom  he  had  sent 
to  a  cell  in  Antonia  that  they  might  die  of  leprosy,  are 
alive  and  well,  thanks  to  the  power  of  the  Nazarene  whom 
you  so  despise ;  tell  him  that,  to  fill  my  measure  of  happi 
ness,  they  are  restored  to  me,  and  that  I  will  go  hence  to 
their  love,  and  find  in  it  more  than  compensation  for  the 
impure  passions  which  you  leave  me  to  take  to  him ;  tell 
him — this  for  your  comfort,  O  cunning  incarnate,  as  much 
as  his — tell  him  that  when  the  Lord  Sejanus  comes  to  de 
spoil  me  he  will  find  nothing ;  for  the  inheritance  I  had 
from  the  duumvir,  including  the  villa  by  Misenum,  has 
been  sold,  and  the  money  from  the  sale  is  out  of  reach, 
afloat  in  the  marts  of  the  world  as  bills  of  exchange ;  and 
that  this  house  and  the  goods  and  merchandise  and  the 
ships  and  caravans  with  which  Simonides  plies  his  com 
merce  with  such  princely  profits  are  covered  by  imperial 
safeguards — a  wise  head  having  found  the  price  of  the 
favor,  and  the  Lord  Sejanus  preferring  a  reasonable  gain 
in  the  way  of  gift  to  much  gain  fished  from  pools  of  blood 
and  wrong ;  tell  him  if  all  this  were  not  so,  if  the  money 
and  property  were  all  mine,  yet  should  he  not  have  the 
least  part  of  it,  for  when  he  finds  our  Jewish  bills,  and 
forces  them  to  give  up  their  values,  there  is  yet  another 
resort  left  me — a  deed  of  gift  to  Ca?sar — so  much,  O  Egypt, 
I  found  out  in  the  atria  of  the  great  capital ;  tell  him  that 
along  with  my  defiance  I  do'not  send  him  a  curse  in  words, 
but,  as  a  better  expression  of  my  undying  hate,  I  send  him 
one  who  will  prove  to  him  the  sum  of  all  curses  ;  and  when 
he  looks  at  you  repeating  this  my  message,  daughter  of 
Balthasar,  his  Roman  shrewdness  will  tell  him  all  I  mean. 
Go  now — and  I  will  go." 


522  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

He  conducted  her  to  the  door,  and,  with  ceremonious 
politeness,  held  back  the  curtain  while  she  passed  out. 
"  Peace  to  you,"  he  said,  as  she  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WHEN  Ben-Hur  left  the  guest-chamber,  there  was  not 
nearly  so  much  life  in  his  action  as  when  he  entered  it ; 
his  steps  were  slower,  and  he  went  along  with  his  head 
quite  upon  his  breast.  Having  made  discovery  that  a  man 
with  a  broken  back  may  yet  have  a  sound  brain,  he  was 
reflecting  upon  the  discovery. 

Forasmuch  as  it  is  easy  after  a  calamity  has  befallen  to 
look  back  and  see  the  proofs  of  its  coming  strewn  along  the 
way,  the  thought  that  he  had  not  even  suspected  the  Egyp 
tian  as  in  Messala's  interest,  but  had  gone  blindly  on  through 
whole  years  putting  himself  and  his  friends  more  and  more 
at  her  mercy,  was  a  sore  wound  to  the  young  man's  vanity. 
"  I  remember,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  she  had  no  word  of 
indignation  for  the  perfidious  Roman  at  the  Fountain  of 
Castalia  !  I  remember  she  extolled  him  at  the  boat-ride 
on  the  lake  in  the  Orchard  of  Palms !  And,  ah !" — he 
stopped,  and  beat  his  left  hand  violently  with  his  right — 
"  ah !  that  mystery  about  the  appointment  she  made  with 
me  at  the  Palace  of  Idernee  is  no  mystery  now !" 

The  wound,  it  should  be  observed,  was  to  his  vanity  ; 
and  fortunately  it  is  not  often  that  people  die  of  such 
hurts,  or  even  continue  a  long  time  sick.  In  Bcn-Hur's 
case,  moreover,  there  was  a  compensation ;  for  presently 
he  exclaimed  aloud,  "  Praised  be  the  Lord  God  that  the 
woman  took  not  a  more  lasting  hold  on  me !  I  see  I  did 
not  love  her." 

Then,  as  if  he  had  already  parted  with  not  a  little  of  the 
weight  on  his  mind,  he  stepped'forward  more  lightly  ;  and, 
coming  to  the  place  on  the  terrace  where  one  stairway  led 
down  to  the  court-yard  below,  and  another  ascended  to  the 
roof,  he  took  the  latter  and  began  to  climb.  As  he  made 
the  last  step  in  the  flight  he  stopped  again. 

"  Can  Balthasar  have  been  her  partner  in  the  long  mask 


BEX-HUB:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  523 

she  lias  been  playing?  No,  no.  Hypocrisy  seldom  goes 
with  wrinkled  age  like  that.  Balthasar  is  a  good  man." 

With  this  decided  opinion  he  stepped  upon  the  roof. 
There  was  a  full  moon  overhead,  yet  the  vault  of  the  sky 
at  the  moment  was  lurid  with  light  cast  up  from  the  fires 
burning  in  the  streets  and  open  places  of  the  city,  and  the 
chanting  and  chorusing  of  the  old  psalmody  of  Israel  rilled 
it  with  plaintive  harmonies  to  which  he  could  not  but  listen. 
The  countless  voices  bearing  the  burden  seemed  to  say, 
"  Thus,  O  son  of  Judah,  we  prove  our  worshipfulness  of 
the  Lord  God,  and  our  loyalty  to  the  land  he  gave  us.  Let 
a  Gideon  appear,  or  a  David,  or  a  Maccabeus,  and  we  are 
ready." 

That  seemed  an  introduction ;  for  next  he  saw  the  man 
of  Nazareth. 

In  certain  moods  the  mind  is  disposed  to  mock  itself 
with  inapposite  fancies. 

The  tearful  woman-like  face  of  the  Christ  stayed  with 
him  while  he  crossed  the  roof  to  the  parapet  above  the 
street  on  the  north  side  of  the  house,  and  there  was  in  it 
no  sign  of  war  ;  but  rather  as  the  heavens  of  calm  evenings 
look  peace  upon  everything,  so  it  looked,  provoking  the  old 
question,  What  manner  of  man  is  he  ? 

Ben-Hur  permitted  himself  one  glance  over  the  parapet, 
then  turned  and  walked  mechanically  towards  the  summer- 
house. 

"  Let  them  do  their  worst,"  he  said,  as  he  went  slowly 
on.  "  I  will  not  forgive  the  Roman.  I  will  not  divide  my 
fortune  with  him,  nor  will  I  fly  from  this  city  of  my  fa 
thers.  I  will  call  on  Galilee  first,  and  here  make  the  fight. 
By  brave  deeds  I  will  bring  the  tribes  to  our  side.  He 
who  raised  up  Moses  will  find  us  a  leader,  if  I  fail.  If  not 
the  Nazarene,  then  some  other  of  the  many  ready  to  die 
for  freedom." 

The  interior  of  the  summer-house,  when  Ben-IIur,  slow 
sauntering,  came  to  it,  was  murkily  lighted.  The  faintest 
of  shadows  lay  along  the  floor  from  the  pillars  on  the  north 
and  west  sides.  Looking  in,  he  saw  the  arm-chair  usually 
occupied  by  Simonides  drawn  to  a  spot  from  which  a  view 
of  the  city  over  towards  the  Market-place  could  be  best  had. 


524  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  The  good  man  is  returned.  I  will  speak  with  him, 
unless  he  be  asleep." 

He  walked  in,  and  with  a  qniet  step  approached  the 
chair.  Peering  over  the  high  back,  he  beheld  Esther 
nestled  in  the  seat  asleep — a  small  figure  snugged  away 
under  her  father's  lap-robe.  The  hair  dishevelled  fell  over 
her  face.  Her  breathing  was  low  and  irregular.  Once  it 
was  broken  by  a  long  sigh,  ending  in  a  sob.  Something — 
it  might  have  been  the  sigh  or  the  loneliness  in  which  he 
found  her — imparted  to  him  the  idea  that  the  sleep  was  a 
rest  from  sorrow  rather  than  fatigue.  Nature  kindly  sends 
such  relief  to  children,  and  he  was  used  to  thinking  Esther 
scarcely  more  than  a  child.  He  put  his  arms  upon  the 
back  of  the  chair,  and  thought. 

"  I  will  not  Avake  her.  I  have  nothing  to  tell  her — noth 
ing  unless — unless  it  be  my  love.  .  .  .  She  is  a  daughter 
of  Judah,  and  beautiful,  and  so  unlike  the  Egyptian ;  for 
there  it  is  all  vanity,  here  all  truth ;  there  ambition,  here 
duty ;  there  selfishness,  here  self-sacrifice.  .  .  .  Nay,  the 
question  is  not  do  I  love  her,  but  does  she  love  me  ?  She 
was  my  friend  from  the  beginning.  The  night  on  the  ter 
race  at  Antioch,  how  childlike  she  begged  me  not  to  make 
Rome  my  enemy,  and  had  me  tell  her  of  the  villa  by  Mise- 
num,  and  of  the  life  there  !  That  she  should  not  see  I  saw 
her  cunning  drift  I  kissed  her.  Can  she  have  forgotten  the 
kiss  ?  I  have  not.  I  love  her.  .  .  .  They  do  not  know  in 
the  city  that  I  have  back  my  people.  I  shrank  from  tell 
ing  it  to  the  Egyptian  ;  but  this  little  one  will  rejoice  with 
me  over  their  restoration,  and  welcome  them  with  love  and 
sweet  services  of  hand  and  heart.  She  will  be  to  my  mother 
another  daughter  ;  in  Tirzah  she  will  find  her  other  self.  I 
would  wake  her  and  tell  her  these  things,  but — out  on  the 
sorceress  of  Egypt !  Of  that  folly  I  could  not  command 
myself  to  speak.  I  will  go  away,  and  wait  another  and  a 
better  time.  I  will  wait.  Fair  Esther,  dutiful  child,  daugh 
ter  of  Judah !" 

He  retired  silently  as  he  came. 


BEX-HUR:  A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  525 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  streets  were  full  of  people  going  and  coming,  or 
grouped  about  the  fires  roasting  meat,  and  feasting  and 
singing,  and  happy.  The  odor  of  scorching  flesh  mixed 
with  the  odor  of  cedar-wood  aflame  and  smoking  loaded 
the  air ;  and  as  this  was  the  occasion  when  every  son  of 
Israel  was  full  brother  to  every  other  son  of  Israel,  and 
hospitality  was  without  bounds,  Ben-IIur  was  saluted  at 
every  step,  while  the  groups  by  the  fires  insisted,  "  Stay  and 
partake  with  us.  We  are  brethren  in  the  love  of  the  Lord." 
But  with  thanks  to  them  he  hurried  on,  intending  to  take 
horse  at  the  khan  and  return  to  the  tents  on  the  Cedron. 

To  make  the  place,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  cross  the 
thoroughfare  so  soon  to  receive  sorrowful  Christian  per 
petuation.  There  also  the  pious  celebration  was  at  its 
height.  Looking  up  the  street,  he  noticed  the  flames  of 
torches  in  motion  streaming  out  like  pennons  ;  then  he  ob 
served  that  the  singing  ceased  where  the  torches  came. 
His  wonder  rose  to  its  highest,  however,  when  he  became 
certain  that  amidst  the  smoke  and  dancing  sparks  he  saw 
the  keener  sparkling  of  burnished  spear-tips,  arguing  the 
presence  of  Koman  soldiers.  What  were  they,  the  scofling 
legionaries,  doing  in  a  Jewish  religious  procession  ?  The 
circumstance  was  unheard  of,  and  he  stayed  to  see  the 
meaning  of  it. 

The  moon  was  shining  its  best ;  yet,  as  if  the  moon  and 
the  torches,  and  the  fires  in  the  street,  and  the  rays  stream 
ing  from  Avindows  and  open  doors  were  not  enough  to  make 
the  way  clear,  some  of  the  processionists  carried  lighted 
lanterns ;  and  fancying  he  discovered  a  special  purpose  in 
the  use  of  such  equipments,  Ben-Hur  stepped  into  the  street 
so  close  to  the  line  of  march  as  to  bring  every  one  of  the 
company  under  view  while  passing.  The  torches  and  the 
lanterns  were  being  borne  by  servants,  each  of  whom  was 
armed  with  a  bludgeon  or  a  sharpened  stave.  Their  pres- 


526  BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ent  duty  seemed  to  be  to  pick  out  the  smoothest  paths 
among  the  rocks  in  the  street  for  certain  dignitaries  among 
them — elders  and  priests ;  rabbis  with  long  beards,  heavy 
brows,  and  beaked  noses  ;  men  of  the  class  potential  in  the 
councils  of  Caiaphas  and  Ilannas.  Where  could  they  be 
going  ?  Not  to  the  Temple,  certainly,  for  the  route  to  the 
sacred  house  from  Zion,  whence  these  appeared  to  be  com 
ing,  was  by  the  Xystus.  And  their  business — if  peaceful, 
why  the  soldiers  ? 

As  the  procession  began  to  go  by  Ben-Hur,  his  attention 
was  particularly  called  to  three  persons  walking  together. 
They  were  well  towards  the  front,  and  the  servants  who 
went  before  them  with  lanterns  appeared  unusually  careful 
in  the  service.  In  the  person  moving  on  the  left  of  this 
group  he  recognized  a  chief  policeman  of  the  Temple  ;  the 
one  on  the  right  was  a  priest ;  the  middle  man  was  not  at 
first  so  easily  placed,  as  he  walked  leaning  heavily  upon 
the  arms  of  the  others,  and  carried  his  head  so  low  upon 
his  breast  as  to  hide  his  face.  His  appearance  was  that  of 
a  prisoner  not  yet  recovered  from  the  fright  of  arrest,  or 
being  taken  to  something  dreadful — to  torture  or  death. 
The  dignitaries  helping  him  on  the  right  and  left,  and  the 
attention  they  gave  him,  made  it  clear  that  if  he  were  not 
himself  the  object  moving  the  party,  he  was  at  least  in 
some  way  connected  with  the  object — a  witness  or  a  guide, 
possibly  an  informer.  So  if  it  could  be  found  who  he  was 
the  business  in  hand  might  be  shrewdly  guessed.  With 
great  assurance,  Ben-Hur  fell  in  on  the  right  of  the  priest, 
and  walked  along  with  him.  Now  if  the  man  would  lift 
his  head  !  And  presently  he  did  so,  letting  the  light  of  the 
lanterns  strike  full  in  his  face,  pale,  dazed,  pinched  with 
dread ;  the  beard  roughed ;  the  eyes  filmy,  sunken,  and 
despairing.  In  much  going  about  following  the  Nazarene, 
Ben-Hur  had  come  to  know  his  disciples  as  well  as  the 
Master ;  and  now,  at  sight  of  the  dismal  countenance,  he 
cried  out, 

"  The  'Scariot !" 

Slowly  the  head  of  the  man  turned  until  his  eyes  settled 
upon  Ben-Hur,  and  his  lips  moved  as  if  he  were  about  to 
speak  ;  but  the  priest  interfered. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  527 

"  Who  art  them?  Begone  !"  he  said  to  Bcn-Hur,  push 
ing  him  away. 

The  young  man  took  the  push  good-naturedly,  and, 
waiting  an  opportunity,  fell  into  the  procession  again. 
Thus  he  was  carried  passively  along  down  the  street, 
through  the  crowded  lowlands  between  the  hill  Bezetha 
and  the  Castle  of  Antonia,  and  on  by  the  Bethesda  reser 
voir  to  the  Sheep  Gate.  There  were  people  everywhere,  and 
everywhere  the  people  were  engaged  in  sacred  observances. 

It  being  Passover  night,  the  valves  of  the  Gate  stood 
open.  The  keepers  were  off  somewhere  feasting.  In  front 
of  the  procession  as  it  passed  oiit  unchallenged  was  the 
deep  gorge  of  the  Cedron,  with  Olivet  beyond,  its  dress 
ing  of  cedar  and  olive  trees  darker  of  the  moonlight  silver 
ing  all  the  heavens.  Two  roads  met  and  merged  into  the 
street  at  the  gate — one  from  the  northeast,  the  other  from 
Bethany.  Ere  Ben-IIur  could  finish  wondering  whether 
he  were  to  go  farther,  and  if  so,  which  road  was  to  be 
taken,  he  was  led  off  down  into  the  gorge.  And  still  no 
hint  of  the  purpose  of  the  midnight  march. 

Down  the  gorge  and  over  the  bridge  at  the  bottom  of  it. 
There  was  a  great  clatter  on  the  floor  as  the  crowd,  now  a 
straggling  rabble,  passed  over  beating  and  pounding  with 
their  clubs  and  staves.  A  little  farther,  and  they  turned 
off  to  the  left  in  the  direction  of  an  olive  orchard  enclosed 
by  a  stone  wall  in  view  from  the  road.  Ben-IIur  knew 
there  was  nothing  in  the  place  but  old  gnarled  trees, 
the  grass,  and  a  trough  hewn  out  of  a  rock  for  the  tread 
ing  of  oil  after  the  fashion  of  the  country.  While,  yet 
more  wonder-struck,  he  was  thinking  what  could  bring 
such  a  company  at  such  an  hour  to  a  quarter  so  lonesome, 
they  were  all  brought  to_  a  standstill.  Voices  called  out 
excitedly  in  front ;  a  chill  sensation  ran  from  man  to  man  ; 
there  was  a  rapid  falling-back,  and  a  blind  stumbling  over 
each  other.  The  soldiers  alone  kept  their  order. 

It  took  Ben-IIur  but  a  moment  to  disengage  himself 
from  the  mob  and  run  forward.  There  he  found  a  gate 
way  without  a  gate  admitting  to  the  orchard,  and  he  halted 
to  take  in  the  scene. 

A  man  in  white  clothes,  and  bareheaded,  was  standing 


528  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE  OF   THE   CHRIST. 

outside  the  entrance,  his  hands  crossed  before  him — a  slen 
der,  stooping  figure,  with  long  hair  and  thin  face — in  an 
attitude  of  resignation  and  waiting. 

It  was  the  Nazarene  ! 

Behind  him,  next  the  gateway,  were  the  disciples  in  a 
group ;  they  were  excited,  but  no  man  was  ever  calmer 
than  he.  The  torchlight  beat  redly  upon  him,  giving  his 
hair  a  tint  ruddier  than  was  natural  to  it ;  yet  the  expres 
sion  of  the  countenance  was  as  usual  all  gentleness  and  pity. 

Opposite  this  most  unmartial  figure  stood  the  rabble, 
gaping,  silent,  awed,  cowering — ready  at  a  sign  of  anger 
from  him  to  break  and  run.  And  from  him  to  them — 
then  at  Judas,  conspicuous  in  their  midst — Ben-Hur  looked 
— one  quick  glance,  and  the  object  of  the  visit  lay  open  to 
his  understanding.  Here  was  the  betrayer,  there  the  be 
trayed  ;  and  these  with  clubs  and  staves,  and  the  legion 
aries,  were  brought  to  take  him. 

A  man  may  not  always  tell  what  he  will  do  until  the 
trial  is  upon  him.  This  was  the  emergency  for  which  Ben- 
llur  had  been  for  years  preparing.  The  man  to  whose 
security  he  had  devoted  himself,  and  upon  whose  life  he 
had  been  building  so  largely,  was  in  personal  peril ;  yet 
he  stood  still.  Such  contradictions  are  there  in  human 
nature  !  To  say  truth,  O  reader,  he  was  not  entirely  re 
covered  from  the  picture  of  the  Christ  before  the  Gate 
Beautiful  as  it  had  been  given  by  the  Egyptian  ;  and,  be 
sides  that,  the  very  calmness  with  which  the  mysterious 
person  confronted  the  mob  held  him  in  restraint  by  sug 
gesting  the  possession  of  a  power  in  reserve  more  than 
sufficient  for  the  peril.  Peace  and  good-will,  and  love  and 
non-resistance,  had  been  the  burden  of  the  Nazarcne's 
teaching ;  would  he  put  his  preaching  into  practice  ?  He 
was  master  of  life  ;  he  could  restore  it  when  lost ;  he  could 
take  it  at  pleasure.  What  use  would  he  make  of  the  power 
now  ?  Defend  himself  \  And  how  ?  A  word — a  breath — 
a  thought  were  sufficient.  That  there  would  be  some  signal 
exhibition  of  astonishing  force  beyond  the  natural  Beri-Hitr 
believed,  and  in  that  faith  waited.  And  in  all  this  he  was  still 
measuring  the  Nazarene  by  himself — by  the  human  standard. 

Presently  the  clear  voice  of  the  Christ  arose. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST.  529 

"  Whom  seek  yc  ?" 

"  Jesus  of  Nazareth,"  the  priest  replied. 

"  I  am  he." 

At  these  simplest  of  words,  spoken  without  passion  or 
alarm,  the  assailants  fell  back  several  steps,  the  timid 
among  them  cowering  to  the  ground ;  and  they  might 
have  let  him  alone  and  gone  away  had  not  Judas  walked 
over  to  him. 

"  Hail,  master !" 

With  this  friendly  speech,  he  kissed  him. 

"  Judas,"  said  the  Nazarene,  mildly,  "  betrayest  thou  the 
Son  of  man  with  a  kiss  ?  Wherefore  art  thou  come  ?" 

Receiving  no  reply,  the  Master  spoke  to  the  crowd  again. 

"  Whom  seek  ye  ?" 

"  Jesus  of  Nazareth." 

"  I  have  told  you  that  I  am  he.  If,  therefore,  you  seek 
me,  let  these  go  their  way." 

At  these  words  of  entreaty  the  rabbis  advanced  upon 
him ;  and,  seeing  their  intent,  some  of  the  disciples  for 
whom  he  interceded  drew  nearer ;  one  of  them  cut  off  a 
man's  ear,  but  without  saving  the  Master  from  being  taken. 
And  yet  Ben-Hur  stood  still !  Nay,  while  the  officers  were 
making  ready  with  their  ropes  the  Nazarene  was  doing  his 
greatest  charity — not  the  greatest  in  deed,  but  the  very 
greatest  in  illustration  of  his  forbearance,  so  far  surpassing 
that  of  men. 

"  Suffer  ye  thus  far,"  he  said  to  the  wounded  man,  and 
healed  him  with  a  touch. 

Both  friends  and  enemies  were  confounded — one  side 
that  lie  could  do  such  a  thing,  the  other  that  he  would  do 
it  under  the  circumstances. 

"  Surely  he  will  not  allow  them  to  bind  him  1" 

Thus  thought  Ben-IIur. 

"  Put  up  thy  sword  into  the  sheath  ;  the  cup  which  my 
Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ?"  From  the  of 
fending  follower,  the  Nazarene  turned  to  his  captors.  "  Are 
you  come  out  as  against  a  thief,  with  swords  and  staves  to 
take  me  ?  I  was  daily  with  you  in  the  Temple,  and  you  took 
me  not ;  but  this  is  your  hour,  and  the  power  of  darkness." 

The  posse  plucked  up  courage  and  closed  about  him ; 
34 


530  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

and  when  Bcn-IIur  looked  for  the  faithful  they  were  gone 
— not  one  of  them  remained. 

The  croivd  about  the  deserted  man  seemed  very  busy, 
with  tongue,  hand,  and  foot.  Over  their  heads,  between 
the  torch-sticks,  through  the  smoke,  sometimes  in  openings 
between  the  restless  men,  Ben-Hur  caught  momentary 
glimpses  of  the  prisoner.  Never  had  anything  struck 
him  as  so  piteous,  so  unfriended,  so  forsaken !  Yet,  he 
thought,  the  man  could  have  defended  himself — he  could 
have  slain  his  enemies  with  a  breath,  but  he  would  not. 
What  was  the  cup  his  father  had  given  him  to  drink  ? 
And  who  was  the  father  to  be  so  obeyed  ?  Mystery  upon 
mystery — not  one,  but  many. 

Directly  the  mob  started  in  return  to  the  city,  the  sol 
diers  in  the  lead.  Ben-IIur  became  anxious ;  he  was  not 
satisfied  with  himself.  Where  the  torches  were  in  the 
midst  of  the  rabble  he  knew  the  Nazarene  was  to  be  found. 
Suddenly  he  resolved  to  see  him  again.  He  would  ask 
him  one  question. 

Taking  off  his  long  outer  garment  and  the  handkerchief 
from  his  head,  he  threw  them  upon  the  orchard  wall,  and 
started  after  the  posse,  which  lie  boldly  joined.  Through 
the  stragglers  he  made  way,  and  by  littles  at  length  reached 
the  man  who  carried  the  ends  of  the  rope  with  which  the 
prisoner  was  bound. 

The  Nazarene  was  walking  slowly,  his  head  down,  his 
hands  bound  behind  him ;  the  hair  fell  thickly  over  his 
face,  and  he  stooped  more  than  usual ;  apparently  he  was 
oblivious  to  all  going  on  around  him.  In  advance  a  few 
steps  were  priests  and  elders  talking  and  occasionally  look 
ing  back.  AVhen,  at  length,  they  were  all  near  the  bridge 
in  the  gorge,  Ben-IIur  took  the  rope  from  the  servant  who 
had  it,  and  stepped  past  him. 

"  Master,  master  !"  he  said,  hurriedly,  speaking  close  to 
the  Nazarene's  ear.  "  Dost  thou  hear,  master  ?  A  word — 
one  word.  Tell  me — " 

The  fellow  from  whom  he  had  taken  the  rope  now 
claimed  it. 

"  Tell  me,"  Ben-Hur  continued,  "  goest  thou  with  these 
of  thine  own  accord  ?" 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CIIRIST.  531 

The  people  were  come  up  now,  and  in  his  own  ears  ask 
ing  angrily,  "Who  art  thou,  man  .'" 

"  O  master,"  Ben-Hur  made  haste  to  say,  his  voice  sharp 
with  anxiety,  "  I  am  thy  friend  and  lover.  Tell  me,  I  pray 
thee,  if  I  bring  rescue,  wilt  thou  accept  it  ?" 

The  Nazarene  never  so  much  as  looked  up  or  allowed 
the  slightest  sign  of  recognition  ;  yet  the  something  which 
when  we  are  suffering  is  always  telling  it  to  such  as  look 
at  us,  though  they  be  strangers,  failed  not  now.  "  Let  him 
alone,"  it  seemed  to  say ;  "  he  has  been  abandoned  by  his 
friends  ;  the  world  has  denied  him  ;  in  bitterness  of  spirit, 
he  has  taken  farewell  of  men ;  he  is  going  he  knows  not 
where,  and  he  cares  not.  Let  him  alone." 

And  to  that  Ben-IIur  was  now  driven.  A  dozen  hands 
were  upon  him,  and  from  all  sides  there  was  shouting, 
"  He  is  one  of  them.  Bring  him  along  ;  club  him — kill 
him  !" 

With  a  gust  of  passion  which  gave  him  many  times  his 
ordinary  force,  Ben-Hur  raised  himself,  turned  once  about 
with  his  arms  outstretched,  shook  the  hands  off,  and  rushed 
through  the  circle  which  was  fast  hemming  him  in.  The 
hands  snatching  at  him  as  he  passed  tore  his  garments 
from  his  back,  so  he  ran  off  the  road  naked  ;  and  the  gorge, 
in  keeping  of  the  friendly  darkness,  darker  there  than  else 
where,  received  him  safe. 

Reclaiming  his  handkerchief  and  outer  garments  from 
the  orchard  wall,  he  followed  back  to  the  city  gate  ;  thence 
he  went  to  the  khan,  and  on  the  good  horse  rode  to  the 
tents  of  his  people  out  by  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings. 

As  he  rode,  he  promised  himself  to  see  the  Nazarene  on 
the  morrow — promised  it,  not  knowing  that  the  unfriended 
man  was  taken  straightway  to  the  house  of  Hannas  to  be 
tried  that  night. 

The  heart  the  young  man  carried  to  his  couch  beat  so 
heavily  he  could  not  sleep ;  for  now  clearly  his  renewed 
Judean  kingdom  resolved  itself  into  what  it  was — only  a 
dream.  It  is  bad  enough  to  see  our  castles  overthrown 
one  after  another  with  an  interval  between  in  which  to  re 
cover  from  the  shock,  or  at  least  let  the  echoes  of  the  fall 
die  away ;  but  when  they  go  altogether — go  as  ships  sink, 


532  BEX-HUR:  A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

as  houses  tumble  in  earthquakes — the  spirits  which  endure 
it  calmly  are  made  of  stuffs  sterner  than  common,  and  Ben- 
Hur's  was  not  of  them.  Through  vistas  in  the  future,  he 
began  to  catch  glimpses  of  a  life  serenely  beautiful,  with  a 
home  instead  of  a  palace  of  state,  and  Esther  its  mistress. 
Again  and  again  through  the  leaden-footed  hours  of  the 
night  he  saw  the  villa  by  Misenum,  and  with  his  little 
countrywoman  strolled  through  the  garden,  and  rested  in 
the  panelled  atrium ;  overhead  the  Neapolitan  sky,  at  their 
feet  the  sunniest  of  sun-lands  and  the  bluest  of  bays. 

In  plainest  speech,  he  was  entering  upon  a  crisis  with 
which  to-morrow  and  the  Nazarene  will  have  everything 
to  do. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

NEXT  morning,  about  the  second  hour,  two  men  rode  full 
speed  to  the  doors  of  Ben-IIur's  tents,  and,  dismounting, 
asked  to  see  him.  He  was  not  yet  risen,  but  gave  direc 
tions  for  their  admission. 

"  Peace  to  you,  brethren,"  he  said,  for  they  were  of  his 
Galileans,  and  trusted  officers.  "  Will  you  be  seated  ?" 

"  Nay,"  the  senior  replied,  bluntly,  "  to  sit  and  be  at  ease 
is  to  let  the  Nazarene  die.  Rise,  son  of  Judah,  and  go  with 
us.  The  judgment  has  been  given.  The  tree  of  the  cross 
is  already  at  Golgotha." 

Ben-Hur  stared  at  them. 

"  The  cross  1"  was  all  he  could  for  the  moment  say. 

u  They  took  him  last  night,  and  tried  him,"  the  man 
continued.  "  At  dawn  they  led  him  before  Pilate.  Twice 
the  Roman  denied  his  guilt ;  twice  he  refused  to  give  him 
over.  At  last  he  washed  his  hands,  and  said, '  Be  itxipon 
you  then  ;'  and  they  answered — " 

"  Who  answered  ?" 

"  They — the  priests  and  people — '  His  blood  be  upon 
us  and  our  children.'  " 

"  Holy  father  Abraham  !"  cried  Bcn-IIur ;  "  a  Roman 
kinder  to  an  Israelite  than  his  own  kin  !  And  if — ah,  if 
he  should  indeed  be  the  son  of  God,  what  shall  ever  wash 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  533 

his  blood  from  their  children?  It  must  r.ot  be — 'tis  time 
to  fight !" 

His  face  brightened  with  resolution,  and  he  clapped  his 
hands. 

"  The  horses — and  quickly  !"  he  said  to  the  Arab  who 
answered  the  signal.  "  And  bid  Amrah  send  me  fresh 
garments,  and  bring  my  sword !  It  is  time  to  die  for  Is 
rael,  my  friends.  Tarry  without  till  I  come." 

He  ate  a  crust,  drank  a  cup  of  wine,  and  was  soon  upon 
the  road. 

'  Whither  would  you  go  first  ?"  asked  the  Galilean. 

'  To  collect  the  legions." 

'  Alas  !"  the  man  replied,  throwing  up  his  hands. 

'Why  alas?" 

'  Master" — the  man  spoke  with  shame — "  master,  I  and 
my  friend  here  are  all  that  are  faithful.  The  rest  do  fol 
low  the  priests." 

"  Seeking  what  ?"  and  Ben-Hur  drew  rein. 

"To  kill  him." 

"  Not  the  Nazarene  ?" 

"  You  have  said  it." 

Ben-Hur  looked  slowly  from  one  man  to  the  other.  He 
was  hearing  again  the  question  of  the  night  before  :  "  The 
cup  my  Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ?"  In 
the  ear  of  the  Nazarene  he  was  putting  his  own  question, 
"  If  I  bring  thee  rescue,  wilt  thou  accept  it  ?"  He  was 
saying  to  himself,  "This  death  may  not  be  averted.  The 
man  has  been  travelling  towards  it  with  full  knowledge 
from  the  day  he  began  his  mission :  it  is  imposed  by  a 
will  higher  than  his  ;  whose  but  the  Lord's  !  If  he  is  con 
senting,  if  he  goes  to  it  voluntarily,  what  shall  another  do  ?" 
Nor  less  did  Ben-Hur  see  the  failure  of  the  scheme  he  had 
built  upon  the  fidelity  of  the  Galileans ;  their  desertion, 
in  fact,  left  nothing  more  of  it.  But  how  singular  it 
should  happen  that  morning  of  all  others !  A  dread 
seized  him.  It  was  possible  his  scheming,  and  labor,  and 
expenditure  of  treasure  might  have  been  but  blasphemous 
contention  with  God.  When  he  picked  up  the  reins  and 
said,  "  Let  us  go,  brethren,"  all  before  him  was  uncertainty. 
The  faculty  of  resolving  quickly,  without  which  one  can- 


534  Br.N-HUR:   A   TALE   OF  THE   CHRIST. 

not  be  a  hero  in  the  midst  of  stirring  scenes,  was  numb 
within  him. 

"  Let  us  go,  brethren  ;  let  us  to  Golgotha." 

They  passed  through  excited  crowds  of  people  going 
south,  like  themselves.  All  the  country  north  of  the  city 
seemed  aroused  and  in  motion. 

Hearing  that  the  procession  with  the  condemned  might 
be  met  with  somewhere  near  the  great  white  towers  left  by 
Herod,  the  three  friends  rode  thither,  passing  round  south 
east  of  Akra.  In  the  valley  below  the  Pool  of  Ilezekiah, 
passage-way  against  the  multitude  became  impossible,  and 
they  were  compelled  to  dismount,  and  take  shelter  behind 
the  corner  of  a  house  and  wait. 

The  waiting  was  as  if  they  were  on  a  river  bank,  watch 
ing  a  flood  go  by,  for  such  the  people  seemed. 

There  are  certain  chapters  in  the  First  Book  of  this 
story  which  Avere  written  to  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  the 
composition  of  the  Jewish  nationality  as  it  was  in  the  time 
of  Christ.  They  were  also  written  in  anticipation  of  this 
hour  and  scene ;  so  that  he  who  has  read  them  with  at 
tention  can  now  see  all  Ben-IIur  saw  of  the  going  to  the 
crucifixion — a  rare  and  wonderful  sight ! 

Half  an  hour — an  hour — the  flood  surged  by  Ben-Hur 
and  his  companions,  within  arm's  reach,  incessant,  undi- 
minished.  At  the  end  of  that  time  he  could  have  said,  "  I 
have  seen  all  the  castes  of  Jerusalem,  all  the  sects  of  Judea, 
all  the  tribes  of  Israel,  and  all  the  nationalities  of  earth 
represented  by  them."  The  Libyan  Jew  went  by,  and  the 
Jew  of  Egypt,  and  the  Jew  from  the  Rhine  ;  in  short,  Jews 
from  all  East  countries  and  all  West  countries,  and  all  isl 
ands  within  commercial  connection  ;  they  went  by  on  foot, 
on  horseback,  on  camels,  in  litters  and  chariots,  and  with 
an  infinite  variety  of  costumes,  yet  with  the  same  marvel 
lous  similitude  of  features  which  to-day  particularizes  the 
children  of  Israel,  tried  as  they  have  been  by  climates  and 
modes  of  life ;  they  went  by  speaking  all  known  tongues, 
for  by  that  means  only  were  they  distinguishable  group 
from  group ;  they  went  by  in  haste — eager,  anxious,  crowd 
ing — all  to  behold  one  poor  Nazarene  die,  a  felon  between 
felons. 


BEX-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  535 

These  were  the  many,  but  they  were  not  all. 

Borne  along  with  the  stream  were  thousands  not  Jews 
— thousands  hating  and  despising  them — Greeks,  Romans, 
Arabs,  Syrians,  Africans,  Egyptians,  Easterns.  So  that, 
studying  the  mass,  it  seemed  the  whole  world  was  to  be 
represented,  and,  in  that  sense,  present  at  the  crucifixion. 

The  going  was  singularly  quiet.  A  hoof-stroke  upon  a 
rock,  the  glide  and  rattle  of  revolving  wheels,  voices  in 
conversation,  and  now  and  then  a  calling  voice,  were  all 
the  sounds  heard  above  the  rustle  of  the  mighty  move 
ment.  Yet  was  there  upon  every  countenance  the  look 
with  which  men  make  haste  to  see  some  dreadful  sight, 
some  sudden  wreck,  or  ruin,  or  calamity  of  war.  And  by 
such  signs  Ben-Hur  judged  that  these  were  the  strangers 
in  the  city  come  up  to  the  Passover,  who  had  had  no  part 
in  the  trial  of  the  Nazarene,  and  might  be  his  friends. 

At  length, from  the  direction  of  the  great  towers, Ben-Hur 
heard,  at  first  faint  in  the  distance,  a  shouting  of  many  men. 

"  Hark  !  they  are  coming  now,"  said  one  of  his  friends. 

The  people  in  the  street  halted  to  hear ;  but  as  the  cry 
rang  on  over  their  heads,  they  looked  at  each  other,  and  in 
shuddering  silence  moved  along. 

The  shouting  drew  nearer  each  moment ;  and  the  air 
was  already  full  of  it  and  trembling,  when  Ben-Hur  saw 
the  servants  of  Simonides  coming  -with  their  master  in  his 
chair,  and  Esther  walking  by  his  side  ;  a  covered  litter  was 
next  behind  them. 

"  Peace  to  you,  O  Simonides — and  to  you,  Esther,"  said 
Ben-IIur,  meeting  them.  "  If  you  are  for  Golgotha,  stay 
until  the  procession  passes;  I  will  then  go  with  you. 
There  is  room  to  turn  in  by  the  house  here." 

The  merchant's  large  head  rested  heavily  upon  his  breast ; 
rousing  himself,  he  answered,  "Speak  to  Balthasar ;  his 
pleasure  will  be  mine.  lie  is  in  the  litter." 

Ben-IIur  hastened  to  draw  aside  the  curtain.  The  Egyp 
tian  was  lying  within,  his  wan  face  so  pinched  as  to  .appear 
like  a  dead  man's.  The  proposal  was  submitted  to  him. 

"  Can  we  see  him  ?"  he  inquired,  faintly. 

"  The  Nazarene  ?  yes ;  he  must  pass  within  a  few  feet 
of  us." 


536  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

"  Dear  Lord  !"  the  old  man  cried,  fervently.  "  Once 
more,  once  more  !  Oh,  it  is  a  dreadful  day  for  the 
world !" 

Shortly  the  whole  party  were  in  waiting  under  shelter  of 
the  house.  They  said  but  little,  afraid,  probably,  to  trust 
their  thoughts  to  each  other;  everything  was  uncertain, 
and  nothing  so  much  so  as  opinions.  Balthasar  drew  him 
self  feebly  from  the  litter,  and  stood  supported  by  a  ser 
vant  ;  Esther  and  Ben-Hur  kept  Simonides  company. 

Meantime  the  flood  poured  along,  if  anything,  more 
densely  than  before ;  and  the  shouting  came  nearer,  shrill 
up  in  the  air,  hoarse  along  the  earth,  and  cruel.  At  last 
the  procession  was  up. 

"  See  !"  said  Ben  -  Hur,  bitterly  ;  "  that  which  cometh 
now  is  Jerusalem." 

The  advance  was  in  possession  of  an  army  of  boys,  hoot 
ing  and  screaming,  "  The  King  of  the  Jews  !  Room,  room 
for  the  King  of  the  Jews  !" 

Simonides  watched  them  as  they  whirled  and  danced 
along,  like  a  cloud  of  summer  insects,  and  said,  gravely, 
"  When  these  come  to  their  inheritance,  son  of  Ilur,  alas 
for  the  city  of  Solomon  !" 

A  band  of  legionaries  fully  armed  followed  next,  march 
ing  in  sturdy  indifference,  the  glory  of  burnished  brass 
about  them  the  while. 

Then  came  the  NAZARENE  1 

He  was  nearly  dead.  Every  few  steps  he  staggered  as 
if  he  would  fall.  A  stained  gown  badly  torn  hung  from  his 
shoulders  over  a  seamless  undertunic.  His  bare  feet  left 
red  splotches  upon  the  stones.  An  inscription  on  a  board 
was  tied  to  his  neck.  A  crown  of  thorns  had  been  crushed 
hard  down  upon  his  head,  making  cruel  wounds  from  which 
streams  of  blood,  now  dry  and  blackened,  had  run  over  his 
face  and  neck.  The  long  hair,  tangled  in  the  thorns,  was 
clotted  thick.  The  skin,  where  it  could  be  seen,  was  ghastly 
white.  His  hands  were  tied  before  him.  Back  somewhere 
in  the  city  he  had  fallen  exhausted  under  the  transverse 
beam  of  his  cross,  which,  as  a  condemned  person,  custom 
required  him  to  bear  to  the  place  of  execution  ;  now  a  coun 
tryman  carried  the  burden  in  his  stead.  Four  soldiers 


BEN-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  537 

went  with  him  as  a  guard  against  the  mob,  who  sometimes, 
nevertheless,  broke  through,  and  struck  him  with  sticks, 
and  spit  upon  him.  Yet  no  sound  escaped  him,  neither  re 
monstrance  nor  groan ;  nor  did  he  look  up  until  he  was 
nearly  in  front  of  the  house  sheltering  Ben-IIur  and  his 
friends,  all  of  whom  were  moved  with  quick  compassion. 
Esther  clung  to  her  father ;  and  he,  strong  of  will  as  he 
was,  trembled.  Balthasar  fell  down  speechless.  Even  Ben- 
Hur  cried  out,  "  O  my  God  !  my  God  !"  Then,  as  if  he 
divined  their  feelings  or  heard  the  exclamation,  the  Naza- 
rene  turned  his  wan  face  towards  the  party,  and  looked  at 
them  each  one,  so  they  carried  the  look  in  memory  through 
life.  They  could  see  he  was  thinking  of  them,  not  him 
self,  and  the  dying  eyes  gave  them  the  blessing  he  was  not 
permitted  to  speak. 

"  Where  are  thy  legions,  son  of  ITur  ?"  asked  Simonides, 
aroused. 

"  Hannas  can  tell  thee  better  than  I." 

"  What,  faithless  ?" 

"  All  but  these  two." 

"  Then  all  is  lost,  and  this  good  man  must  die  !" 

The  face  of  the  merchant  knit  convulsively  as  he 
spoke,  and  his  head  sank  upon  his  breast.  He  had  borne 
nis  part  in  Ben-Hur's  labors  well,  and  he  had  been  in 
spired  by  the  same  hopes,  now  blown  out  never  to  be  re 
kindled. 

Two  other  men  succeeded  the  Xazarene  bearing  cross 
beams. 

"  Who  are  these  ?"  Ben-IIur  asked  of  the  Galileans. 

"  Thieves  appointed  to  die  with  the  Nazarene,"  they  re 
plied. 

Next  in  the  procession  stalked  a  mitred  figure  clad  all  in 
the  golden  vestments  of  the  high-priest.  Policemen  from 
the  Temple  curtained  him  round  about ;  and  after  him,  in 
order,  strode  the  sanhedrim,  and  a  long  array  of  priests,  the 
latter  in  their  plain  white  garments  overwrapped  by  abnets 
of  many  folds  and  gorgeous  colors. 

"  The  son-in-law  of  Hannas,"  said  Ben-IIur,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  Caiaphas  !     I  have  seen  him,"  Simonides  replied,  add- 


538  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ing,  after  a  pause  during  which  he  thoughtfully  watched 
the  haughty  pontiff,  "  And  now  am  I  convinced.  With 
such  assurance  as  proceeds  from  clear  enlightenment  of  the 
spirit — with  absolute  assurance — now  know  I  that  he  who 
first  goes  yonder  with  the  inscription  about  his  neck  is 
what  the  inscription  proclaims  him — KING  OF  THE  JEWS. 
A  common  man,  an  impostor,  a  felon,  was  never  thus  waited 
upon.  For  look  !  Here  are  the  nations — Jerusalem,  Israel. 
Here  is  the  ephod,  here  the  blue  robe  with  its  fringe,  and 
purple  pomegranates,  and  golden  bells,  not  seen  in  the 
street  since  the  day  Jaddua  went  out  to  meet  the  Mace 
donian — proofs  all  that  this  Nazarene  is  King.  Would  I 
could  rise  and  go  after  him  !" 

Ben-IIur  listened  surprised ;  and  directly,  as  if  himself 
awakening  to  his  unusual  display  of  feeling,  Simonides 
said,  impatiently, 

"  Speak  to  Balthasar,  I  pray  you,  and  let  us  begone.  The 
vomit  of  Jerusalem  is  coming." 

Then  Esther  spoke. 

"  I  see  some  women  there,  and  they  are  weeping.  Who 
are  they  ?" 

Following  the  point  of  her  hand,  the  party  beheld  four 
women  in  tears;  one  of  them  leaned  upon  the  arm  of  a 
man  of  aspect  not  unlike  the  Nazarene's.  Presently  Ben- 
Hur  answered, 

"  The  man  is  the  disciple  whom  the  Nazarene  loves  the 
best  of  all ;  she  who  leans  upon  his  arm  is  Mary,  the  Mas 
ter's  mother ;  the  others  are  friendly  women  of  Galilee." 

Esther  pursued  the  mourners  with  glistening  eyes  until 
the  multitude  received  them  out  of  sight. 

It  may  be  the  reader  will  fancy  the  foregoing  snatches 
of  conversation  were  had  in  quiet ;  but  it  was  not  so.  The 
talking  was,  for  the  most  part,  like  that  indulged  by  people 
at  the  seaside  under  the  sound  of  the  surf ;  for  to  nothing 
else  can  the  clamor  of  this  division  of  the  mob  be  so  well 
likened. 

The  demonstration  was  the  forerunner  of  those  in  which, 
scarce  thirty  years  later,  under  rule  of  the  factions,  the  Holy 
City  was  torn  to  pieces ;  it  was  quite  as  great  in  numbers, 
as  fanatical  and  bloodthirsty ;  boiled  and  raved,  and  had 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF    THE   CHRIST.  539 

in  it  exactly  the  same  elements — servants,  camel-drivers, 
marketmen,  gate-keepers,  gardeners,  dealers  in  fruits  and 
wines,  proselytes,  and  foreigners  not  proselytes,  watchmen 
and  menials  from  the  Temple,  thieves,  robbers,  and  the 
myriad  not  assignable  to  any  class,  but  who,  on  such 
occasions  as  this,  appeared  no  one  could  say  whence, 
hungry  and  smelling  of  caves  and  old  tombs — bareheaded 
wretches  with  naked  arms  and  legs,  hair  and  beard  in  un 
combed  mats,  and  each  with  one  garment  the  color  of  clay  ; 
beasts  with  abysmal  mouths,  in  outcry  effective  as  lions 
calling  each  other  across  desert  spaces.  Some  of  them 
had  swords  ;  a  greater  number  flourished  spears  and  jave 
lins  ;  though  the  weapons  of  the  many  were  staves  and 
knotted  clubs,  and  slings,  for  which  latter  selected  stones 
were  stored  in  scrips,  and  sometimes  in  sacks  improvised 
from  the  foreskirts  of  their  dirty  tunics.  Among  the  mass 
here  and  there  appeared  persons  of  high  degree — scribes, 
ciders,  rabbis,  Pharisees  with  broad  fringing,  Sadducees  in 
fine  cloaks — serving  for  the  time  as  prompters  and  direc 
tors.  If  a  throat  tired  of  one  cry,  they  invented  another 
for  it ;  if  brassy  lungs  showed  signs  of  collapse,  they  set 
them  going  again  ;  and  yet  the  clamor,  loud  and  continuous 
as  it  was,  could  have  been  reduced  to  a  few  syllables — 
King  of  the  Jews  ! — Room  for  the  King  of- the  Jews  ! — De- 
filer  of  the  Temple  ! — Blasphemer  of  God  ! — Crucify  him, 
crucify  him !  And  of  these  cries  the  last  one  seemed  in 
greatest  favor,  because,  doubtless,  it  was  more  directly  ex 
pressive  of  the  wish  of  the  mob,  and  helped  to  better  artic 
ulate  its  hatred  of  the  Nazarene. 

"  Come,"  said  Simonides,  when  Balthasar  was  ready  to 
proceed — "  come,  let  us  forward." 

Ben-IIur  did  not  hear  the  call.  The  appearance  of  the 
part  of  the  procession  then  passing,  its  brutality  and  hun 
ger  for  life,  were  reminding  him  of  the  Nazarenc — his  gen 
tleness,  and  the  many  charities  he  had  seen  him  do  for 
suffering  men.  Suggestions  beget  suggestions ;  so  he  re 
membered  suddenly  his  own  great  indebtedness  to  the 
man ;  the  time  he  himself  was  in  the  hands  of  a  Roman 
guard  going,  as  was  supposed,  to  a  death  as  certain  and  al 
most  as  terrible  as  this  one  of  the  cross  ;  the  cooling  drink 


540  BEX-HITR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

lie  had  at  tlic  well  by  Nazareth,  and  the  divine  expression 
of  the  face  of  him  who  gave  it ;  the  later  goodness,  the 
miracle  of  Palm-Sunday  ;  and  with  these  recollections,  the 
thought  of  his  present  powerlessness  to  give  back  help  for 
help  or  make  return  in  kind  stung  him  keenly,  and  he  ac 
cused  himself.  He  had  not  done  all  he  might ;  he  could 
have  watched  with  the  Galileans,  and  kept  them  true  and 
ready  ;  and  this — ah  !  this  was  the  moment  to  strike  !  A 
blow  well  given  now  would  not  merely  disperse  the  mob 
and  set  the  Nazarene  free ;  it  would  be  a  trumpet-call  to 
Israel,  and  precipitate  the  long-dreamt-of  war  for  freedom. 
The  opportunity  was  going ;  the  minutes  were  bearing  it 
away  ;  and  if  lost !  God  of  Abraham  !  Was  there  nothing 
to  be  done — nothing  ? 

That  instant  a  party  of  Galileans  caught  his  eye.  He 
rushed  through  the  press  and  overtook  them. 

"  Follow  me,"  he  said.    "  I  would  have  speech  with  you." 

The  men  obeyed  him,  and  when  they  were  under  shelter 
of  the  house,  he  spoke  again  : 

"  You  are  of  those  who  took  my  swords,  and  agreed  with 
me  to  strike  for  freedom  and  the  King  who  was  coming. 
You  have  the  swords  now,  and  now  is  the  time  to  strike 
with  them.  Go,  look  everywhere,  and  find  our  brethren, 
and  tell  them  to  meet  me  at  the  tree  of  the  cross  making 
ready  for  the  Nazarene.  Haste  all  of  you !  Nay,  stand 
not  so  !  The  Nazarene  is  the  King,  and  freedom  dies  with 
him." 

They  looked  at  him  respectfully,  but  did  not  move. 

"  Hear  you  ?"  he  asked. 

Then  one  of  them  replied, 

"  Son  of  Judah  " — by  that  name  they  knew  him — "  son 
of  Judah,  it  is  you  who  are  deceived,  not  we  or  our  breth 
ren  who  have  your  swords.  The  Nazarene  is  not  the  King ; 
neither  has  he  the  spirit  of  a  king.  We  were  with  him 
when  he  came  into  Jerusalem  ;  we  saw  him  in  the  Temple  ; 
he  failed  himself,  and  us,  and  Israel ;  at  the  Gate  Beautiful 
he  turned  his  back  upon  God  and  refused  the  throne  of 
David.  He  is  not  King,  and  Galilee  is  not  with  him. 
He  shall  die  the  death.  But  hear  you,  son  of  Judah.  We 
have  your  swords,  and  we  are  ready  now  to  draw  them  and 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  541 

strike  for  freedom  !  and  we  will  meet  you  at  the  tree  of  tLe 
cross." 

The  sovereign  moment  of  his  life  was  upon  Ben-IIur. 
Could  he  have  taken  the  offer  and  said  the  word,  history 
might  have  been  other  than  it  is ;  but  then  it  would  have 
been  history  ordered  by  mens  not  God — something  that 
never  was,  and  never  will  be.  A  confusion  fell  upon  him ; 
he  knew  not  how,  though  afterwards  he  attributed  it  to 
the  Nazarene  ;  for  when  the  Nazarene  was  risen,  he  under 
stood  the  death  was  necessary  to  faith  in  the  resurrection, 
without  which  Christianity  would  be  an  empty  husk.  The 
confusion,  as  has  been  said,  left  him  without  the  faculty 
of  decision  ;  he  stood  helpless — wordless  even.  Covering 
his  face  with  his  hand,  he  shook  with  the  conflict  between 
his  wish,  which  was  what  he  would  have  ordered,  and  the 
power  that  was  upon  him. 

"  Come ;  we  are  waiting  for  you,"  said  Simonides,  the 
fourth  time. 

Thereupon  he  walked  mechanically  after  the  chair  and 
the  litter.  Esther  walked  with  him.  Like  Balthasar  and 
his  friends,  the  Wise  Men,  the  day  they  went  to  the  meet 
ing  in  the  desert,  he  was  being  led  along  the  way. 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHEN  the  party — Balthasar,  Simonides,  Ben-IIur,  Es 
ther,  and  the  two  faithful  Galileans — reached  the  place  of 
crucifixion,  Ben-IIur  was  in  advance  leading  them.  How 
they  had  been  able  to  make  way  through  the  great  press  of 
excited  people,  he  never  knew  ;  no  more  did  he  know  the 
road  by  which  they  came  or  the  time  it  took  them  to  come, 
lie  had  walked  in  total  unconsciousness,  neither  hearing 
nor  seeing  anybody  or  anything,  and  without  a  thought  of 
where  he  was  going,  or  the  ghostliest  semblance  of  a  pur 
pose  in  his  mind.  In  such  condition  a  little  child  could 
have  done  as  much  as  he  to  prevent  the  awful  crime  he  was 
about  to  witness.  The  intentions  of  God  are  always  strange 
to  us ;  but  not  more  so  than  the  means  by  which  they  are 
wrought  out,  and  at  last  made  plain  to  our  belief. 


542  BEN-HUIl:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

Ben  -  Hur  came  to  a  stop ;  those  following  him  also 
stopped.  As  a  curtain  rises  before  an  audience,  the  spell 
holding  him  in  its  sleep-awake  rose,  and  he  saw  with  a 
clear  understanding. 

There  was  a  space  upon  the  top  of  a  low  knoll  rounded 
like  a  skull,  and  dry,  dusty,  and  without  vegetation,  except 
some  scrubby  hyssop.  The  boundary  of  the  space  was  a 
living  wall  of  men,  with  men  behind  struggling,  some  to 
look  over,  others  to  look  through  it.  An  inner  wall  of  Ro 
man  soldiery  held  the  dense  outer  wall  rigidly  to  its  place. 
A  centurion  kept  eye  upon  the  soldiers.  Up  to  the  very 
line  so  vigilantly  guarded  Ben-IIur  had  been  led ;  at  the 
line  he  now  stood,  his  face  to  the  northwest.  The  knoll 
was  the  old  Aramaic  Golgotha — in  Latin,  Calvaria  ;  angli 
cized,  Calvary  ;  translated,  The  Skull. 

On  its  slopes,  in  the  low  places,  on  the  swells  and  higher 
hills,  the  earth  sparkled  with  a  strange  enamelling.  Look 
where  he  would  outside  the  walled  space,  he  saw  no  patch 
of  brown  soil,  no  rock,  no  green  thing ;  he  saw  only  thou 
sands  of  eyes  in  ruddy  faces  ;  off  a  little  way  in  the  per 
spective  only  ruddy  faces  without  eyes  ;  off  a  little  farther 
only  a  broad,  broad  circle,  which  the  nearer  view  instructed 
him  was  also  of  faces.  And  this  was  the  ensemble  of  three 
millions  of  people  ;  under  it  three  millions  of  hearts  throb 
bing  with  passionate  interest  in  what  was  taking  place  upon 
the  knoll ;  indifferent  as  to  the  thieves,  caring  only  for  the 
Nazarene,  and  for  him  only  as  he  was  an  object  of  hate  or 
fear  or  curiosity — he  who  loved  them  all,  and  was  about 
to  die  for  them. 

In  the  spectacle  of  a  great  assemblage  of  people  there  are 
always  the  bewilderment  and  fascination  one  feels  while 
looking  over  a  stretch  of  sea  in  agitation,  and  never  had 
this  one  been  exceeded ;  yet  Ben-IIur  gave  it  but  a  pass 
ing  glance,  for  that  which  was  going  on  in  the  space  de 
scribed  would  permit  no  division  of  his  interest. 

Up  on  the  knoll  so  high  as  to  be  above  the  living  wall, 
and  visible  over  the  heads  of  an  attending  company  of  no 
tables,  conspicuous  because  of  his  mitre  and  vestments  and 
his  haughty  air,  stood  the  high-priest.  Up  the  knoll  still 
higher,  up  quite  to  the  round  summit,  so  as  to  be  seen  far 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  543 

and  near,  was  the  Nazarene,  stooped  and  suffering,  but  si- 
ient.  The  wit  among  the  guard  had  complemented  the 
crown  upon  his  head  by  putting  a  reed  in  his  hand  for  a 
sceptre.  Clamors  blew  upon  him  like  blasts — laughter — 
execrations — sometimes  both  together  indistinguishably. 
A  man — only  a  man,  O  reader,  would  have  charged  the 
blasts  with  the  remainder  of  his  love  for  the  race,  and  let 
it  go  forever. 

All  the  eyes  then  looking  were  fixed  upon  the  Nazarcne. 
It  may  have  been  pity  with  which  he  was  moved ;  what 
ever  the  cause,  Ben-Hur  was  conscious  of  a  change  in  his 
feelings.  A  conception  of  something  better  than  the  best 
of  this  life — something  so  much  better  that  it  could  serve 
a  weak  man  with  strength  to  endure  agonies  of  spirit  as 
well  as  of  body ;  something  to  make  death  welcome — per 
haps  another  life  purer  than  this  one — perhaps  the  spirit- 
life  which  Balthasar  held  to  so  fast,  began  to  dawn  upon 
his  mind  clearer  and  clearer,  bringing  to  him  a  certain 
sense  that,  after  all,  the  mission  of  the^Xazarenc  was  that 
of  guide  across  the  boundary  for_such_as_loved  him  \  across 
the  boundary  to  where  his  kingdom  was  set  up  and  wait 
ing  for  him.  Then,  as  something  borne  through  the  air 
out  of  the  almost  forgotten,  he  heard  again,  or  seemed  to 
hear,  the  saying  of  the  Nazarene, 

"  I  AM  THE  RESURRECTION  AND  THE  LIFE." 
And  the  words  repeated  themselves  over  and  over,  and  took 
form,  and  the  dawn  touched  them  with  its  light,  and  filled 
them  with  a  new  meaning.  And  as  men  repeat  a  question 
to  grasp  and  fix  the  meaning,  he  asked,  gazing  at  the  figure 
on  the  hill  fainting  under  its  crown,  Who  the  Resurrec 
tion  ?  and  who  the  Life  ? 

"  I  AM," 

the  figure  seemed  to  say — and  say  it  for  him  ;  for  instantly 
he  was  sensible  of  a  peace  such  as  he  had  never  known — 
the  peace  which  is  the  end  of  doubt  and  mystery,  and  the 
beginning  of  faith  and  love  and  clear  understanding. 

From  this  dreamy  state  Ben-llur  was  aroused  by  the 
sound  of  hammering.  On  the  summit  of  the  knoll  he  ob 
served  then  what  had  escaped  him  before — some  soldiers 
and  workmen  preparing  the  crosses.  The  holes  for  plant- 


544  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ing  the  trees  were  ready,  and  now  the  transverse  beams 
were  being  fitted  to  their  places. 

"  Bid  the  men  make  haste,"  said  the  high-priest  to  the 
centurion.  "  These  " — and  he  pointed  to  the  Nazarene — 
"  must  be  dead  by  the  going-down  of  the  sun,  and  buried 
that  the  land  may  not  be  defiled.  Such  is  the  Law." 

With  a  better  mind,  a  soldier  went  to  the  Nazarene  and 
offered  him  something  to  drink,  but  he  refused  the  cup. 
Then  another  went  to  him  and  took  from  his  neck  the 
board  with  the  inscription  upon  it,  which  he  nailed  to  the 
tree  of  the  cross — and  the  preparation  was  complete. 

"  The  crosses  are  ready,"  said  the  centurion  to  the  pon 
tiff,  who  received  the  report  with  a  wave  of  the  hand  and 
the  reply, 

"  Let  the  blasphemer  go  first.  The  Son  of  God  should 
be  able  to  save  himself.  We  will  see." 

The  people  to  whom  the  preparation  in  its  several  stages 
was  visible,  and  who  to  this  time  had  assailed  the  hill  with 
incessant  cries  of  impatience,  permitted  a  lull  which  di 
rectly  became  a  universal  hush.  The  part  of  the  inflic 
tion  most  shocking,  at  least  to  the  thought,  was  reached — 
the  men  were  to  be  nailed  to  their  crosses.  When  for 
that  purpose  the  soldiers  laid  their  hands  upon  the  Naza 
rene  first,  a  shudder  passed  through  the  great  concourse ; 
the  most  brutalized  shrank  with  dread.  Afterwards  there 
were  those  who  said  the  air  suddenly  chilled  and  made 
them  shiver. 

"  IIow  very  still  it  is  !"  Esther  said,  as  she  put  her 
arm  about  her  father's  neck. 

And  remembering  the  torture  he  himself  had  suffered, 
he  drew  her  face  down  upon  his  breast,  and  sat  trembling. 

"  Avoid  it,  Esther,  avoid  it !"  he  said.  "  I  know  -not 
but  all  who  stand  and  see  it — the  innocent  as  well  as  the 
guilty — may  be  cursed  from  this  hour." 

Balthasar  sank  upon  his  knees. 

"  Son  of  Hur,"  said  Simonides,  with  increasing  excite 
ment — "  son  of  Hur,  if  Jehovah  stretch  not  forth  his  hand, 
and  quickly,  Israel  is  lost — and  we  are  lost." 

Ben-Hur  answered,  calmly,  "  I  have  been  in  a  dream, 
Simonides,  and  heard  in  it  why  all  this  should  be,  and  why 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  545 

it  should  go  on.  It  is  the  will  of  the  Nazarene — it  is  God's 
will.  -  Let  us  do  as  the  Egyptian  here — let  us  hold  our 
peace  and  pray." 

As  he  looked  up  on  the  knoll  again,  the  words  were 
wafted  to  him  through  the  awful  stillness — 

"  I  AM  THE  RESURRECTION  AND  THE  LIFE." 
He  bowed  reverently  as  to  a  person  speaking. 

Up  on  the  summit  meantime  the  work  went  on.  The 
guard  took  the  Nazarene's  clothes  from  him  ;  so  that  he 
stood  before  the  millions  naked.  The  stripes  of  the 
scourging  he  had  received  in  the  early  morning  were  still 
bloody  upon  his  back  ;  yet  he  was  laid  pitilessly  down, 
and  stretched  upon  the  cross — first,  the  arms  upon  the 
transverse  beam  ;  the  spikes  were  sharp — a  few  blows,  and 
they  were  driven  through  the  tender  palms  ;  next,  they 
drew  his  knees  up  until  the  soles  of  the  feet  rested  flat 
upon  the  tree ;  then  they  placed  one  foot  upon  the  other, 
and  one  spike  fixed  both  of  them  fast.  The  dulled  sound 
of  the  hammering  was  heard  outside  the  guarded  space  ; 
and  such  as  could  not  hear,  yet  saw  the  hammer  as  it  fell, 
shivered  with  fear.  And  withal  not  a  groan,  or  cry,  or 
word  of  remonstrance  from  the  sufferer :  nothing  at  which 
an  enemy  could  laugh ;  nothing  a Joyer  co~uTcTregret. 

"  Which  way  wilt  thou  have  him  faced  ?"  asked  a  sol 
dier,  bluntly. 

"  Towards  the  Temple,"  the  pontiff  replied.  "  In  dying 
I  would  have  him  see  the  holy  house  hath  not  suffered  by 
him." 

The  workmen  put  their  hands  to  the  cross,  and  carried 
it,  burden  and  all,  to  the  place  of  planting.  At  a  word, 
they  dropped  the  tree  into  the  hole ;  and  the  body  of  the 
Nazarene  also  dropped  heavily,  and  hung  by  the  bleeding 
hands.  Still  no  cry  of  pain — only  the  exclamation  divinest 
of  all  recorded  exclamations, 

"  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

The  cross,  reared  now  above  all  other  objects,  and  stand 
ing  singly  out  against  the  sky,  was  greeted  with  a  burst  of 
delight;  and  all  who  could  see  and  read  the  writing  upon 
the  board  overtlie  Xa/arene's  head  made  haste  to  decipher 
it.  Soon  as  read,  the  legend  was  adopted  by  them  and 
35 


546  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

communicated,  and  presently  the  whole  mighty  concourse 
was  ringing  the  salutation  from  side  to  side,  and  repeating 
it  with  laughter  and  groans, 

"  King  of  the  Jews  !    Hail,  King  of  the  Jews !" 

The  pontiff,  with  a  clearer  idea  of  the  import  of  the  in 
scription,  protested  against  it,  but  in  vain ;  so  the  titled 
King,  looking  from  the  knoll  with  dying  eyes,  must  have 
had  the  city  of  his  fathers  at  rest  below  him — she  who 
had  so  ignominiously  cast  him  out. 

The  sun  was  rising  rapidly  to  noon  ;  the  hills  bared  their 
brown  breasts  lovingly  to  it ;  the  more  distant  mountains 
rejoiced  in  the  purple  with  which  it  so  regally  dressed  them. 
In  the  city,  the  temples,  palaces,  towers,  pinnacles,  and  all 
points  of  beauty  and  prominence  seemed  to  lift  themselves 
into  the  unrivalled  brilliance,  as  if  they  knew  the  pride  they 
were  giving  the  many  who  from  time  to  time  turned  to 
look  at  them.  Suddenly  a  dimness  began  to  fill  the  sky 
and  cover  the  earth — at  first  no  more  than  a  scarce  percep 
tible  fading  of  the  day  ;  a  twilight  out  of  time  ;  an  evening 
gliding  in  upon  the  splendors  of  noon.  But  it  deepened, 
and  directly  drew  attention  ;  whereat  the  noise  of  the  shout 
ing  and  laughter  fell  off,  and  men,  doubting  their  senses, 
gazed  at  each  other  curiously :  then  they  looked  to  the 
sun  again ;  then  at  the  mountains,  getting  farther  away  ; 
at  the  sky  and  the  near  landscape,  sinking  in  shadow ;  at 
the  hill  upon  which  the  tragedy  was  enacting ;  and  from 
all  these  they  gazed  at  each  other  again,  and  turned  pale, 
and  held  their  peace. 

"  It  is  only  a  mist  or  passing  cloud,"  Simonides  said 
soothingly  to  Esther,  who  was  alarmed.  "  It  will  brighten 
presently." 

Een-Hur  did  not  think  so. 

"  It  is  not  a  mist  or  a  cloud,"  he  said.  "  The  spirits 
who  live  in  the  air — the  prophets  and  saints — are  at  work 
in  mercy  to  themselves  and  nature.  I  say  to  you,  O  Si 
monides,  truly  as  God  lives,  he  who  hangs  yonder  is  the 
Son  of  God." 

And  leaving  Simonides  lost  in  wonder  at  such  a  speech 
from  him,  he  went  where  Balthasar  was  kneeling  near  by, 
and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  good  man's  shoulder. 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  547 

1 '  O  wise  Egyptian,  hearken  !  Thou  alone  wert  right — 
the  Nazarene  is  indeed  the  Son  of  God." 

Balthasar  drew  him  down  to  him,  and  replied,  feebly, 
"  I  saw  him  a  child  in  the  manger  where  he  was  first  laid  ; 
it  is  not  strange  that  I  knew  him  sooner  than  thou  ;  but  oh 
that  I  should  live  to  see  this  day  !  Would  I  had  died  with 
my  brethren  !  Happy  Melchior  !  Happy,  happy  Gaspar  !" 

"  Comfort  thee  !"  said  Ben-Hur.  "  Doubtless  they  too 
are  here." 

The  dimness  went  on  deepening  into  obscurity,  and  that 
into  positive  darkness,  but  without  deterring  the  bolder 
spirits  upon  the  knoll.  One  after  the  other  the  thieves 
were  raised  on  their  crosses,  and  the  crosses  planted.  The 
guard  was  then  withdrawn,  and  the  people  set  free  closed 
in  upon  the  height,  and  surged  up  it,  like  a  converging 
wave.  A  man  might  take  a  look,  when  a  new-comer  would 
push  him  on,  and  take  his  place,  to  be  in  turn  pushed 
on — and  there  were  laughter  and  ribaldry  and  revilements, 
all  for  the  Nazarene, 

"  Ha,  ha !  If  thou  be  King  of  the  Jews,  save  thyself," 
a  soldier  shouted. 

"  Ay,"  said  a  priest,  "  if  he  will  come  down  to  us  now, 
we  will  believe  in  him." 

Others  wagged  their  heads  wisely,  saying,  "  He  would 
destroy  the  Temple,  and  rebuild  it  in  three  days,  but  can 
not  save  himself." 

Others  still :  "  He  called  himself  the  Son  of  God ;  let 
us  see  if  God  will  have  him." 

What  all  there  is  in  prejudice  no  one  has  ever  said. 
The  Nazarene  had  never  harmed  the  people ;  far  the 
greater  part  of  them  had  never  seen  him  except  in  this 
his  hour  of  calamity  ;  yet — singular  contrariety  ! — they 
loaded  him  with  their  curses,  and  gave  their  sympathy  to 
the  thieves. 

The  supernatural  night,  dropped  thus  from  the  heavens, 
affected  Esther  as  it  began  to  affect  thousands  of  others 
braver  and  stronger. 

"  Let  us  go  home,"  she  prayed — twice,  three  times — say 
ing,  "  It  is  the  frown  of  God,  father.  What  other  dread 
ful  things  may  happen,  who  can  tell?  I  am  afraid." 


548  BEN-HUR:  A  TALE   OF  THE  CHRIST. 

Simonides  was  obstinate.  He  said  little,  but  was  plainly 
under  great  excitement.  Observing,  about  the  end  of  the 
first  hour,  that  the  violence  of  the  crowding  up  on  the  knoll 
was  somewhat  abated,  at  his  suggestion  the  party  advanced 
to  take  position  nearer  the  crosses.  Ben-Hur  gave  his  arm 
to  Balthasar ;  yet  the  Egyptian  made  the  ascent  with  diffi 
culty.  From  their  new  stand,  the  Nazarene  was  imper 
fectly  visible,  appearing  to  them  not  more  than  a  dark 
suspended  figure.  They  could  hear  him,  however — hear 
his  sighing,  which  showed  an  endurance  or  exhaustion 
greater  than  that  of  his  fellow-sufferers ;  for  they  filled 
every  lull  in  the  noises  with  their  groans  and  entreaties. 

The  second  hour  after  the  suspension  passed  like  the 
first  one.  To  the  Nazarene  they  were  hours  of  insult, 
provocation,  and  slow  dying.  He  spoke  but  once  in  the 
time.  Some  women  came  and  knelt  at  the  foot  of  his 
cross.  Among  them  he  recognized  his  mother  with  the 
beloved  disciple. 

"  Woman,"  he  said,  raising  his  voice,  "  behold  thy 
son  !"  And  to  the  disciple,  "  Behold  thy  mother !" 

The  third  hour  came,  and  still  the  people  surged  round 
the  hill,  held  to  it  by  some  strange  attraction,  with  which, 
in  probability,  the  night  in  midday  had  much  to  do.  They 
were  quieter  than  in  the  preceding  hour ;  yet  at  intervals 
they  could  be  heard  off  in  the  darkness  shouting  to  each 
other,  multitude  calling  unto  multitude.  It  was  noticeable, 
also,  that  coming  now  to  the  Nazarene,  they  approached 
his  cross  in  silence,  took  the  look  in  silence,  and  so  de 
parted.  This  change  extended  even  to  the  guard,  who  so 
shortly  before  had  cast  lots  for  the  clothes  of  the  crucified  ; 
they  stood  with  their  officers  a  little  apart,  more  watchful 
of  the  one  convict  than  of  the  throngs  coming  and  going. 
If  he  but  breathed  heavily,  or  tossed  his  head  in  a  parox 
ysm  of  pain,  they  were  instantly  on  the  alert.  Most  mar 
vellous  of  all,  however,  was  the  altered  behavior  of  the 
high-priest  and  his  following,  the  wise  men  who  had  as 
sisted  him  in  the  trial  in  the  night,  and,  in  the  victim's 
face,  kept  place  by  him  with  zealous  approval.  When  the 
darkness  began  to  fall,  they  began  to  lose  their  confidence. 
There  were  among  them  many  learned  in  astronomy,  and 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  549 

familiar  with  the  apparitions  so  terrible  in  those  days  to 
the  masses ;  much  of  the  knowledge  was  descended  to 
them  from  their  fathers  far  back ;  some  of  it  had  been 
brought  away  at  the  end  of  the  Captivity  ;  and  the  neces 
sities  of  the  Temple  service  kept  it  all  bright.  These 
closed  together  when  the  sun  commenced  to  fade  before 
their  eyes,  and  the  mountains  and  hills  to  recede ;  they 
drew  together  in  a  group  around  their  pontiff,  and  debated 
what  they  saw.  "  The  moon  is  at  its  full,"  they  said,  with 
truth,  "  and  this  cannot  be  an  eclipse."  Then,  as  no  one 
could  answer  the  question  common  with  them  all — as  no 
one  could  account  for  the  darkness,  or  for  its  occurrence 
at  that  particular  time,  in  their  secret  hearts  they  associ 
ated  it  with  the  Nazarene,  and  yielded  to  an  alarm  which 
the  long  continuance  of  the  phenomenon  steadily  increased. 
In  their  place  behind  the  soldiers,  they  noted  every 
word  and  motion  of  the  Nazarene,  and  hung  with  fear 
upon  his  sighs,  and  talked  in  whispers.  The  man  might 
be  the  Messiah,  and  then —  But  they  would  wait  and  see  ! 

In  the  meantime  Ben-IIur  was  not  once  visited  by  the 
old  spirit.  The  perfect  peace  abode  with  him.  He  prayed 
simply  that  the  end  might  be  hastened,  lie  knew  the  con 
dition  of  Simonides'  mind — that  he  was  hesitating  on  the 
verge  of  belief.  He  could  see  the  massive  face  weighed 
down  by  solemn  reflection.  He  noticed  him  casting  in 
quiring  glances  at  the  sun,  as  seeking  the  cause  of  the 
darkness.  Nor  did  lie  fail  to  notice  the  solicitude  with 
which  Esther  clung  to  him,  smothering  her  fears  to  ac 
commodate  his  wishes. 

"  Be  not  afraid,"  he  heard  him  say  to  her ;  "  but  stay 
and  watch  with  me.  Thou  mayst  live  twice  the  span  of  my 
life,  and  see  nothing  of  human  interest  equal  to  this ;  and 
there  may  be  revelations  more.  Let  us  stay  to  the  close." 

When  the  third  hour  was  about  half  gone,  some  men  of 
the  rudest  class — wretches  from  the  tombs  about  the  city 
— came  and  stopped  in  front  of  the  centre  cross. 

"  This  is  he,  the  new  King  of  the  Jews,"  said  one  of 
them. 

The  others  cried,  with  laughter,  "  Hail,  all  hail,  King  of 
the  Jewsl" 


550  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

Receiving  no  reply,  they  went  closer. 

"  If  thou  be  King  of  the  Jews,  or  Son  of  God,  come 
down,"  they  said,  loudly. 

At  this,  one  of  the  thieves  quit  groaning,  and  called  to 
the  Nazarene,  "  Yes,  if  thou  be  Christ,  save  thyself  and 
us." 

The  people  laughed  and  applauded ;  then,  while  they 
were  listening  for  a  reply,  the  other  felon  was  heard  to  say 
to  the  first  one,  "  Dost  thou  not  fear  God  ?  AVe  receive 
the  due  rewards  of  our  deeds ;  but  this  man  hath  done 
nothing  amiss." 

The  bystanders  were  astonished ;  in  the  midst  of  the 
hush  which  ensued,  the  second  felon  spoke  again,  but  this 
time  to  the  Nazarene  : 

u  Lord,"  he  said,  u  remember  me  when  thou  comest  into 
thy  kingdom." 

Simonides  gave  a  great  start.  "  When  thou  comest 
into  thy  kingdom  !"  It  was  the  very  point  of  doubt  in  his 
mind ;  the  point  he  had  so  often  debated  with  Balthasar. 

"  Didst  thou  hear  ?"  said  Ben-IIur  to  him.  "  The  king 
dom  cannot  be  of  this  world.  Yon  witness  saith  the  King 
is  but  going  to  his  kingdom  ;  and,  in  effect,  I  heard  the 
same  in  my  dream." 

"  Hush  !"  said  Simonides,  more  imperiously  than  ever 
before  in  speech  to  Ben-Hur.  "  Hush,  I  pray  thee  !  If 
the  Nazarene  should  answer — " 

And  as  he  spoke  the  Nazarene  did  answer,  in  a  clear 
voice,  full  of  confidence  : 

"  Verily  I  say  unto  thee,  To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  me 
in  Paradise  !" 

Simonides  waited  to  hear  if  that  were  all ;  then  lie 
folded  his  hands  and  said,  "  No  more,  no  more,  Lord  ! 
The  darkness  is  gone ;  I  see  with  other  eyes  —  even  as 
Balthasar,  I  see  with  eyes  of  perfect  faith." 

The  faithful  servant  had  at  last  his  fitting  reward.  His 
broken  body  might  never  be  restored ;  nor  was  there  rid 
dance  of  the  recollection  of  his  sufferings,  or  recall  of  the 
years  embittered  by  them ;  but  suddenly  a  new  life  was 
shown  him,  with  assurance  that  it  was  for  him — a  new 
life  lying  just  beyond  this  one — and  its  name  was  Paradise. 


BEN-HUR:    A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  551 

There  lie  would  find  the  Kingdom  of  which  he  had  been 
dreaming,  and  the  King.  A  perfect  peace  fell  upon  him. 

Over  the  way,  in  front  of  the  cross,  however,  there  were 
surprise  and  consternation.  The  cunning  casuists  there 
put  the  assumption  underlying  the  question  and  the  ad 
mission  underlying  the  answer  together.  For  saying 
through  the  land  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  they  had 
brought  the  Nazarene  to  the  cross  ;  and,  lo  !  on  the  cross, 
more  confidently  than  ever,  he  had  not  only  reasserted 
himself,  but  promised  enjoyment  of  his  Paradise  to  a 
malefactor.  They  trembled  at  what  they  were  doing. 
The  pontiff,  with  all  his  pride,  was  afraid.  Where  got  the 
man  his  confidence  except  from  Truth  ?  And  what  should 
the  Truth  be  but  God  ?  A  very  little  now  would  put  them 
all  to  flight. 

The  breathing  of  the  Nazarene  grew  harder;  his  sighs 
became  great  gasps.  Only  three  hours  upon  the  cross, 
and  he  was  dying  ! 

The  intelligence  was  carried  from  man  to  man,  until 
every  one  knew  it ;  and  then  everything  hushed ;  the 
breeze  faltered  and  died ;  a  stifling  vapor  loaded  the  air ; 
heat  was  superadded  to  darkness ;  nor  might  any  one  un 
knowing  the  fact  have  thought  that  off  the  hill,  out  under 
the  overhanging  pall,  there  were  three  millions  of  people 
waiting  awe-struck  what  should  happen  rext — they  were 
so  still ! 

Then  there  went  out  through  the  gloom,  over  the  heads 
of  such  as  were  on  the  hill  within  hearing  of  the  dying 
man,  a  cry  of  despair,  if  not  reproach  : 

"  My  God  !  my  God  !  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?" 

The  voice  startled  all  who  heard  it.  One  it  touched  un 
controllably. 

The  soldiers  in  coming  had  brought  with  them  a  vessel 
of  wine  and  water,  and  set  it  down  a  little  way  from  Ben- 
llur.  With  a  sponge  dipped  into  the  liquor,  and  put  on 
the  end  of  a  stick,  they  could  moisten  the  tongue  of  a  suf 
ferer  at  their  pleasure.  Ben-Hur  thought  of  the  draught 
he  had  had  at  the  well  near  Nazareth ;  an  impulse  seized 
him  ;  catching  up  the  sponge,  he  dipped  it  into  the  vessel, 
and  started  for  the  cross. 


552  BEN-HUR-   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

"  Let  him  be  !"  the  people  in  the  way  shouted,  angrily. 
"  Let  him  be  !" 

Without  minding  them,  he  ran  on,  and  put  the  sponge 
to  the  Nazarene's  lips. 

Too  late,  too  late  ! 

The  face  then  plainly  seen  by  Ben-Hur,  bruised  and 
black  with  blood  and  dust  as  it  was,  lighted  nevertheless 
with  a  sudden  glow ;  the  eyes  opened  wide,  and  fixed 
upon  some  one  visible  to  them  alone  in  the  far  heavens ; 
and  there  were  content  and  relief,  even  triumph,  in  the 
shout  the  victim  gave. 

"  It  is  finished  !     It  is  finished  !" 

So  a  hero,  dying  'in  the  doing  a  great  deed,  celebrates 
his  success  with  a  last  cheer. 

The  light  in  the  eyes  went  out ;  slowly  the  crowned 
head  sank  upon  the  laboring  breast.  Ben-Hur  thought 
the  struggle  over ;  but  the  fainting  soul  recollected  itself, 
so  that  he  and  those  around  him  caught  the  other  and  last 
words,  spoken  in  a  low  voice,  as  if  to  one  listening  close  by : 

"  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit." 

A  tremor  shook  the  tortured  body ;  there  was  a  scream 
of  fiercest  anguish,  and  the  mission  and  the  earthly  life 
were  over  at  once.  The  heart,  with  all  its  love,  was  bro 
ken  ;  for  of  that,  O  reader,  the  man  died ! 

Ben-Hur  went  back  to  his  friends,  saying,  simply,  "  It 
is  over ;  he  is  dead." 

In  a  space  incredibly  short  the  multitude  was  informed 
of  the  circumstance.  No  one  repeated  it  aloud ;  there 
was  a  murmur  which  spread  from  the  knoll  in  every  di 
rection  ;  a  murmur  that  was  little  more  than  a  whispering, 
"  He  is  dead  !  he  is  dead  !"  and  that  was  all.  The  people 
had  their  wish ;  the  Nazarene  was  dead ;  yet  they  stared 
at  each  other  aghast.  His  blood  was  upon  them !  And 
while  they  stood  staring  at  each  other,  the  ground  com 
menced  to  shake ;  each  man  took  hold  of  his  neighbor  to 
support  himself ;  in  a  twinkling  the  darkness  disappeared, 
and  the  sun  came  out ;  and  everybody,  as  with  the  same 
glance,  beheld  the  crosses  upon  the  hill  all  reeling  drunken- 
like  in  the  earthquake.  They  beheld  all  three  of  them  ; 
but  the  one  in  the  centre  was  arbitrary ;  it  alone  would  be 


BEX-HUR:    A  TALE   OF   THE  CHRIST.  553 

seen  ;  and  for  that  it  seemed  to  extend  itself  upwards,  and 
lift  its  burden,  and  swing  it  to  and  fro  higher  and  higher 
in  the  blue  of  the  sky.  And  every  man  among  them 
who  had  jeered  at  the  Nazarene  ;  every  one  who  had 
struck  him ;  every  one  who  had  voted  to  crucify  him ; 
every  one  who  had  marched  in  the  procession  from  the 
city ;  every  one  who  had  in  his  heart  wished  him  dead, 
and  they  were  as  ten  to  one,  felt  that  he  was  in  some  way 
individually  singled  out  from  the  many,  and  that  if  he 
would  live  he  must  get  away  quickly  as  possible  from  that 
menace  in  the  sky  They  started  to  run ;  they  ran  with 
all  their  might ;  on  horseback,  and  camels,  and  in  chariots 
they  ran,  as  well  as  on  foot  •,  but  then,  as  if  it  were  mad 
at  them  for  what  they  had  done,  and  had  taken  up  the 
cause  of  the  unoffending  and  friendless  dead,  the  earth 
quake  pursued  them,  and  tossed  them  about,  and  flung 
them  down,  and  terrified  them  yet  more  by  the  horrible 
noise  of  great  rocks  grinding  and  rending  beneath  them. 
They  beat  their  breasts  and  shrieked  with  fear.  His 
blood  was  upon  them !  The  home-bred  and  the  foreign, 
priest  and  layman,  beggar,  Sadducee,  Pharisee,  were  over 
taken  in  the  race,  and  tumbled  about  indiscriminately.  If 
they  called  on  the  Lord,  the  outraged  earth  answered  for 
him  in  fury,  and  dealt  them  all  alike.  It  did  not  even 
know  wherein  the  high-priest  was  better  than  his  guilty 
brethren ;  overtaking  him,  it  tripped  him  up  also,  and 
smirched  the  fringing  of  his  robe,  and  filled  the  golden 
bells  with  sand,  and  his  mouth  with  dust.  He  and  his 
people  were  alike  in  the  one  thing  at  least — the  blood  of 
the  Nazarene  was  upon  them  all ! 

When  the  sunlight  broke  upon  the  crucifixion,  the  moth 
er  of  the  Nazarene,  the  disciple,  and  the  faithful  women 
of  Galilee,  the  centurion  and  his  soldiers,  and  Ben-Hur  and 
his  party,  were  all  who  remained  upon  the  hill.  These 
had  not  time  to  observe  the  flight  of  the  multitude ;  they 
were  too  loudly  called  upon  to  take  care  of  themselves. 

"  Seat  thyself  here,"  said  Ben-Hur  to  Esther,  making  a 
place  for  her  at  her  father's  feet.  "  Now  cover  thine 
eyes,  and  look  not  up ;  but  put  thy  trust  in  God,  and  the 
spirit  of  yon  just  man  so  foully  slain." 


554  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST. 

"  Nay,"  said  Simonides,  reverently,  "  let  us  henceforth 
•^jH';tk  of  him  as  the  Christ." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Ben-Hur. 

Presently  a  wave  of  the  earthquake  struck  the  hill.  The 
shrieks  of  the  thieves  upon  the  reeling  crosses  were  ter 
rible  to  hear.  Though  giddy  with  the  movements  of  the 
ground,  Ben-Hur  had  time  to  look  at  Balthasar,  and  be 
held  him  prostrate  and  still.  He  ran  to  him  and  called — 
there  was  no  reply.  The  good  man  was  dead !  Then 
Ben-Hur  remembered  to  have  heard  a  cry  in  answer,  as  it 
were,  to  the  scream  of  the  Nazarene  in  his  last  moment ; 
but  he  had  not  looked  to  see  from  whom  it  had  proceeded  ; 
and  ever  after  he  believed  the  spirit  of  the  Egyptian  ac 
companied  that  of  his  Master  over  the  boundary  into  the 
kingdom  of  Paradise.  The  idea  rested  not  only  upon  the 
cry  heard,  but  upon  the  exceeding  fitness  of  the  distinction. 
If  faith  were  worthy  reward  in  the  person  of  Gaspar,  and 
love  in  that  of  Melchior,  surely  he  should  have  some  spe 
cial  meed  who  through  a  long  life  had  so  excellently  illus 
trated  the  three  virtues  in  combination — Faith,  Love,  and 
Good  Works. 

The  servants  of  Balthasar  had  deserted  their  master ; 
but  when  all  was  over,  the  two  Galileans  bore  the  old  man 
in  his  litter  back  to  the  city. 

It  was  a  sorrowful  procession  that  entered  the  south 
gate  of  the  palace  of  the  Hurs  about  the  set  of  sun  that 
memorable  day.  About  the  same  hour  the  body  of  the 
Christ  was  taken  down  from  the  cross. 

The  remains  of  Balthasar  were  carried  to  the  guest- 
chamber.  All  the  servants  hastened  weeping  to  see  him ; 
for  he  had  the  love  of  every  living  thing  with  which  he 
had  in  anywise  to  do ;  but  when  they  beheld  his  face,  and 
the  smile  upon  it,  they  dried  their  tears,  saying,  "  It  is 
well.  He  is  happier  this  evening  than  when  he  went  out 
in  the  morning." 

Ben-Hur  would  not  trust  a  servant  to  inform  Iras  what 
had  befallen  her  father.  He  went  himself  to  see  her  and 
bring  her  to  the  body.  He  imagined  her  grief ;  she 
would  now  be  alone  in  the  world ;  it  was  a  time  to  for 
give  and  pity  her.  He  remembered  he  had  not  asked 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE  OF  THE  CHRIST.  555 

why  she  was  not  of  the  party  in  the  morning,  or  where 
she  was;  he  remembered  he  had  not  thought  of  her; 
and,  from  shame,  he  was  ready  to  make  any  amends,  the 
more  so  as  he  was  about  to  plunge  her  into  such  acute 
grief. 

He  shook  the  curtains  of  her  door ;  and  though  he 
heard  the  ringing  of  the  little  bells  echoing  within,  he 
had  no  response ;  he  called  her  name,  and  again  he  called 
— still  no  answer.  He  drew  the  curtain  aside  and  went 
into  the  room ;  she  was  not  there.  He  ascended  hastily 
to  the  roof  in  search  of  her ;  nor  was  she  there.  He 
questioned  the  servants ;  none  of  them  had  seen  her  dur 
ing  the  day.  After  a  long  quest  everywhere  through  the 
house,  Ben-Hur  returned  to  the  guest-chamber,  and  took 
the  place  by  the  dead  which  should  have  been  hers ;  and 
he  bethought  him  there  how  merciful  the  Christ  had  been 
to  his  aged  servant.  At  the  gate  of  the  kingdom  of  Par 
adise  happily  the  afflictions  of  this  life,  even  its  deser 
tions,  are  left  behind  and  forgotten  by  those  who  go  in 
and  rest. 

When  the  gloom  of  the  burial  was  nigh  gone,  on  the 
ninth  day  after  the  healing,  the  law  being  fulfilled,  Ben- 
Hur  brought  his  mother  and  Tirzah  home  ;  and  from 
that  day,  in  that  house  the  most  sacred  names  possible 
of  utterance  by  men  were  always  coupled  worshipfully  to 
gether, 

GOD  THE  FATHER  AND  CHRIST  THE  SON. 


About  five  years  after  the  crucifixion,  Esther,  the  wife 
of  Ben-Hur,  sat  in  her  room  in  the  beautiful  villa  by 
Misenum.  It  was  noon,  with  a  warm  Italian  sun  making 
summer  for  the  roses  and  vines  outside.  Everything  in 
the  apartment  was  Roman,  except  that  Esther  wore  the 
garments  of  a  Jewish  matron.  Tirzah  and  two  children 
at  play  upon  a  lion's  skin  on  the  floor  were  her  compan 
ions  ;  and  one  had  only  to  observe  how  carefully  she 
watched  them  to  know  that  the  little  ones  were  hers. 

Time  had  treated  her  generously.     She  was  more  than 


556  BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

ever  beautiful,  and  in  becoming  mistress  of  the  villa  she 
had  realized  one  of  her  cherished  dreams. 

In  the  midst  of  this  simple,  home-like  scene,  a  servant 
appeared  in  the  doorway,  and  spoke  to  her. 

"  A  woman  in  the  atrium  to  speak  with  the  mistress." 

"  Let  her  come.     I  will  receive  her  here." 

Presently  the  stranger  entered.  At  sight  of  her  the 
Jewess  arose,  and  was  about  to  speak  ;  then  she  hesitated, 
changed  color,  and  finally  drew  back,  saying,  "  I  have 
known  you,  good  woman.  You  are — " 

"  I  was  Iras,  the  daughter  of  Balthasar." 

Esther  conquered  her  surprise,  and  bade  the  servant 
bring  the  Egyptian  a  seat. 

"  No,"  said  Iras,  coldly.     "  I  will  retire  directly." 

The  two  gazed  at  each  other.  We  know  what  Esther 
presented — a  beautiful  woman,  a  happy  mother,  a  con 
tented  wife.  On  the  other  side,  it  was  very  plain  that 
fortune  had  not  dealt  so  gently  with  her  former  rival. 
The  tall  figure  remained  with  some  of  its  grace ;  but  an 
evil  life  had  tainted  the  whole  person.  The  face  was 
coarse ;  the  large  eyes  were  red  and  pursed  beneath  the 
lower  lids ;  there  was  no  color  in  her  cheeks.  The  lips 
were  cynical  and  hard,  and  general  neglect  was  leading 
rapidly  to  premature  old  age.  Her  attire  was  ill  chosen 
and  draggled.  The  mud  of  the  road  clung  to  her  sandals. 
Iras  broke  the  painful  silence. 

"These  are  thy  children?" 

Esther  looked  at  them,  and  smiled. 

"  Yes.     Will  you  not  speak  to  them ?" 

"  I  would  scare  them,"  Iras  replied.  Then  she  drew 
closer  to  Esther,  and,  seeing  her  shrink,  said,  "  Be  not 
afraid.  Give  thy  husband  a  message  for  me.  Tell  him 
his  enemy  is  dead,  and  that  for  the  much  misery  he  brought 
me  I  slew  him." 

"  His  enemy  !" 

"  The  Messala.  Further,  tell  thy  husband  that  for  the 
harm  I  sought  to  do  him  I  have  been  punished  until  even 
he  would  pity  me." 

Tears  arose  in  Esther's  eyes,  and  she  was  about  to 
speak. 


BEN-HUR:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  557 

"  Nay,"  said  Iras,  "  I  do  not  want  pity  or  tears.  Tell 
him,  finally,  I  have  found  that  to  be  a  Roman  is  to  be  a 
brute.  Farewell." 

She  moved  to  go.     Esther  followed  her. 

"  Stay,  and  see  my  husband.  He  has  no  feeling  against 
you.  He  sought  for  you  everywhere.  He  will  be  youi 
friend.  I  will  be  your  friend.  We  are  Christians." 

The  other  was  firm. 

"No;  I  am  what  I  am  of  choice.  It  will  be  over 
shortly." 

"  But " — Esther  hesitated — "  have  we  nothing  you  would 
wish  ;  nothing  to — to — 

The  countenance  of  the  Egyptian  softened ;  something 
like  a  smile  played  about  her  lips.  She  looked  at  the  chil 
dren  upon  the  floor. 

"  There  is  something,"  she  said. 

Esther  followed  her  eyes,  and  with  quick  perception  an 
swered,  "  It  is  yours." 

Iras  went  to  them,  and  knelt  on  the  lion's  skin,  and 
kissed  them  both.  Rising  slowly,  she  looked  at  them ; 
then  passed  to  the  door  and  out  of  it  without  a  parting 
word.  She  walked  rapidly,  and  was  gone  before  Esther 
could  decide  what  to  do. 

Ben-Hur,  when  he  was  told  of  the  visit,  knew  certainly 
what  he  had  long  surmised — that  on  the  day  of  the  cruci 
fixion  Iras  had  deserted  her  father  for  Mcssala.  Never 
theless,  he  set  out  immediately  and  hunted  for  her  vainly  ; 
they  never  saw  her  more,  or  heard  of  her.  The  blue  bay, 
with  all  its  laughing  under  the  sun,  has  yet  its  dark  se 
crets.  Had  it  a  tongue,  it  might  tell  us  of  the  Egyptian. 

Simonides  lived  to  be  a  very  old  man.  In  the  tenth 
year  of  Nero's  reign,  he  gave  up  the  business  so  long  cen 
tred  in  the  warehouse  at  Antioch.  To  the  last  he  kept  a 
clear  head  and  a  good  heart,  and  was  successful. 

One  evening,  in  the  year  named,  he  sat  in  his  arm-chair 
on  the  terrace  of  the  warehouse.  Ben-Hur  and  father, 
and  their  three  children,  were  with  him.  The  last  of  the 
ships  swung  at  mooring  in  the  current  of  the  river ;  all  the 
rest  had  been  sold.  In  the  long  interval  between  this  and 


558  BEN-HUK:   A   TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

the  day  of  the  crucifixion  but  one  sorrow  had  befallen 
them :  that  was  when  the  mother  of  Ben-Hur  died ;  and 
then  and  now  their  grief  would  have  been  greater  but  for 
their  Christian  faith. 

The  ship  spoken  of  had  arrived  only  the  day  before, 
bringing  intelligence  of  the  persecution  of  Christians  be 
gun  by  Nero  in  Rome,  and  the  party  on  the  terrace  were 
talking  of  the  news  when  Malluch,  who  was  still  in  their 
service,  approached  and  delivered  a  package  to  Ben-IIur. 

"  Who  brings  this  ?"  the  latter  asked,  after  reading. 

"  An  Arab." 

"  Where  is  he  ?" 

"  He  left  immediately." 

"  Listen,"  said  Ben-Hur  to  Simonides. 

He  read  then  the  following  letter : 

"  I,  Ildcrim,  the  son  of  Ilderim  the  Generous,  and  sheik  of  the  tribe 
of  Ilderim,  to  Judah,  son  of  Hur. 

"  Know,  0  friend  of  my  father's,  how  my  father  loved  you.  Read 
what  is  herewith  sent,  and  you  will  know.  His  will  is  my  will ;  there 
fore  what  he  gave  is  thine. 

"  All  the  Parthians  took  from  him  in  the  great  battle  in  which  they 
slew  him  I  have  retaken — this  writing,  with  other  things,  and  ven 
geance,  and  all  the  brood  of  that  Mira  who  in  his  time  was  mother  of 
so  many  stars. 

"  Peace  be  to  you  and  all  yours. 

"  This  voice  out  of  the  desert  is  the  voice  of 

"  ILDERIM,  Sheik.'" 

Ben-IIur  next  unrolled  a  scrap  of  papyrus  yellow  as  a 
withered  mulberry  leaf.  It  required  the  daintiest  hand 
ling.  Proceeding,  he  read : 

"  Ilderim,  surnamed  the  Generous,  sheik  of  the  tribe  of  Ilderim,  to 
the  son  who  succeeds  me. 

"  All  I  have,  0  son,  shall  be  thine  in  the  day  of  thy  succession,  ex 
cept  that  property  by  Antioch  known  as  the  Orchard  of  Palms ;  and  it 
shall  be  to  the  son  of  Hur  who  brought  us  such  glory  in  the  Circus — 
to  him  and  his  forever. 

"  Dishonor  not  thy  father.  ILDERIM  THK  GENEROUS,  Sheik." 

"  What  say  you  ?"  asked  Ben-Hur,  of  Simonides. 
Esther  took  the  papers  pleased,  and  read  them  to  her- 


BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  559 

self.  Simonides  remained  silent.  His  eyes  were  upon  the 
ship ;  but  he  was  thinking.  At  length  he  spoke. 

"  Son  of  Hur,"  he  said,  gravely,  "  the  Lord  has  been 
good  to  you  in  these  later  years.  You  have  much  to  be 
thankful  for.  Is  it  not  time  to  decide  finally  the  meaning 
of  the  gift  of  the  great  fortune  now  all  in  your  hand,  and 
growing  ?" 

"  I  decided  that  long  ago.  The  fortune  was  meant  for 
the  service  of  the  Giver ;  not  a  part,  Simonides,  but  all 
of  it.  The  question  with  me  has  been,  How  can  I  make 
it  most  useful  in  his  cause  ?  And  of  that  tell  me,  I  pray 
you." 

Simonides  answered, 

"  The  great  sums  you  have  given  to  the  Church  here  in 
Antioch,  I  am  witness  to.  Now,  instantly  almost  with  this 
gift  of  the  generous  sheik's,  comes  the  news  of  the  perse 
cution  of  the  brethren  in  Rome.  It  is  the  opening  of  a 
new  field.  The  light  must  not  go  out  in  the  capital." 

"  Tell  me  how  I  can  keep  it  alive." 

"  I  will  tell  you.  The  Romans,  even  this  Nero,  hold  two 
things  sacred — I  know  of  no  others  they  so  hold — they  are 
the  ashes  of  the  dead  and  all  places  of  burial.  If  you  can 
not  build  temples  for  the  worship  of  the  Lord  above  ground, 
then  build  them  below  the  ground  ;  and  to  keep  them  from 
profanation,  carry  to  them  the  bodies  of  all  who  die  in  the 
faith." 

Ben-Hur  arose  excitedly. 

"  It  is  a  great  idea,"  he  said.  "  I  will  not  wait  to  be 
gin  it.  Time  forbids  waiting.  The  ship  that  brought  the 
news  of  the  suffering  of  our  brethren  shall  take  me  to 
Rome.  I  will  sail  to-morrow." 

He  turned  to  Malluch. 

"  Get  the  ship  ready,  Malluch,  and  be  thou  ready  to  go 
with  me." 

"  It  is  well,"  said  Simonides. 

"  And  thou,  Esther,  what  sayest  thou  ?"  asked  Ben-Hur. 

Esther  came  to  his  side,  and  put  her  hand  on  his  arm, 
and  answered, 

"So  wilt  thou  best  serve  the  Christ.  O  my  husband, 
let  me  not  hinder,  but  go  with  thee  and  help." 


560  BEN-HUR:   A  TALE   OF   THE   CHRIST. 

****** 

If  any  of  my  readers,  visiting  Rome,  will  make  the 
short  journey  to  the  Catacomb  of  San  Calixto,  which  is 
more  ancient  than  that  of  San  Sebastiano,  he  will  see  what 
became  of  the  fortune  of  Ben-Hur,  and  give  him  thanks. 
Out  of  that  vast  tomb  Christianity  issued  to  supersede  the 
Caesars. 


THE   END. 


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— The  Two  Destinies. — The  Woman  in  White. 

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Romola. — Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,  and  Silas  Marner. — The  Mill 

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Lord  Brackenbury  ................................................  4to,  Paper  15 

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Exchange  No  Robbery...-  .......................................  4to,  Paper  15 

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Joshua  Marvel  ....................................................  8vo,  Paper  40 

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Love's  Victory  ...................................................  8vo,  Paper  20 

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In  Honor  Bound  .................................................  4  to,  Paper  36 

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For  Love  and  Life Svo,  Paper  50 

Harry  Joscelyn 4to,  Paper  20 

He  That  Will  Not  when  He  May 4to,  Paper  20 

Hester '... 4to,  Paper  2C 

Innocent.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

It  was  a  Lover  a:id  His  Lass 4to,  Paper  20 

Lady  Jane 4to,  Paper  10 

Lucy  Crofton 12mo,  Cloth  1  50 

Madam IGmo,  Cloth,  75  cents;       4 to,  Paper  2c 

Madonna  Mary Svo,  Paper  50 

Miss  Marjoribanks Svo,  Paper  50 

Mrs.  Arthur Svo,  Paper  40 

Ombra Svo,  Paper  50 

Phoebe,  Junior Svo,  Paper  35 

Sir  Tom 4to,  Paper  20 

Squire  Arden Svo,  Paper  60 

The  Curate  in  Charge ...• Svo,  Paper  20 

The  Fugitives 4to,  Paper  10 

The  Greatest  Heiress  in  England 4to,  Paper  10 

The  Ladies  Liudores 16mo,  Clotii,  ;j>i  UO;     4 to,  Paper  20 


Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels.  9 

PBIOE 

OLIPHANT'S  (Mrs.)  The  Laird  of  Norlaw 12mo,  Cloth  $1  50 

The  Last  of  the  Mortimers 12mo,  Cloth  1  50 

The  Primrose  Path 8vo,  Pnper  50 

The  Story  of  Valentine  and  his  Brother 8vo,  Paper  50 

The  Wizard's  Son 4 to,  Paper  25 

Within  the  Precincts 4to,  Paper  15 

Young  Musgrave 8vo,  Paper  40 

PAYN'S  (James)  A  Beggar  on  llorseback 8vo,  Paper  35 

A  Confidential  Agent 4to,  Paper  15 

A  Grape  from  a  Thorn 4to,  Paper  20 

A  Woman's  Vengeance 8vo,  Paper  35 

At  Her  Mercy 8vo,  Paper  30 

Bred  in  the  Bone 1 8vo,  Paper  40 

By  Proxy 8vo,  Paper  35 

Carlyon's  Year 8vo,  Paper  25 

For  Cash  Only 4  to,  Paper  20 

Found  Dead , 8vo,  Paper  25 

From  Exile , 4to,  Paper  15 

Gwendoline's  Harvest 8vo,  Paper  25 

Halves 8vo,  Paper  30 

High  Spirits 4to,  Paper  15 

Kit.  Illustrated 4 to,  Paper  20 

Less  Black  than  We're  Painted 8vo,  Paper  35 

Murphy's  Master 8vo,  Paper  20 

One  of  the  Family Svo,  Paper  25 

The  Best  of  Husbands Svo,  Paper  25 

The  Canon's  Ward.  Illustrated 4to,  Paper  25 

The  Talk  of  the  Town 4to,  Paper  20 

Thicker  than  Water IGmo,  Cloth,  $1  00;  4 to,  Paper  20 

Under  One  Roof 4to,  Paper  15 

Walter's  Word 8vo,  Paper  50 

What  He  Cost  Her 8vo,  Paper  40 

Won— Not  Wooed Svo,  Paper  30 

READE'S  Novels  :  Household  Edition.     HIM 12mo,  Cloth,  per  vol.  1  00 


A  Simpleton  and  Wandering  Heir. 

A  Terrible  Temptation. 

A  Woman-Hatcr. 

Foul  Play. 

Good  Stories. 

Griffith  Gaunt. 

Hard  Cash. 


It  is  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend. 
Love  me  Little,  Love  me  Long. 
Peg  Woffingtou,  Christie  John- 
stone,  &c. 

Put  Yourself  in  His  Place. 
The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth. 
White  Lies. 


A  Perilous  Secret...  12 mo,  Cl.,  75  cts. ;  4to,  Pap.,  20  cts. ;  16mo,  Pap.  40 

A  Hero  and  a  Martvr Svo,  Paper  15 

A  Simpleton Svo,  Paper  30 

A  Terrible  Temptation.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  25 

A  Woman-Hater.     HIM Svo,  Paper,  30  cents  ;     12rno,  Paper  20 

Foul  Play Svo,  Paper  30 

Good  Stories  of  Man  and  Other  Animals.     Illustrated. ..4to,  Paper  20 

Griffith  Gaunt.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  30 


10  Harper  &  Brothers7  Popular  Novels. 

REAPE'S  (Charles)  Hard  Cash.  Illustrated 8vo,  Riper  $  35 

It  is  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend 8vo,  Paper  35 

Jack  of  all  Trades 16mo,  Paper  15 

Love  Me  Little,  Love  Me  Long 8vo,  Paper  30 

Multum  in  Parvo.  Illustrated 4to,  Paper  15 

Peg  Woffington,  &c 8vo,  Paper  35 

Put  Yourself  in  His  Place.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  35 

The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth 8vo,  Paper  35 

The  Coming  Man 32mo,  Paper  20 

The  Jilt 32mo,  Paper  20 

The  Picture 16mo,  Paper  15 

The  Wandering  Heir.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  20 

White  Lies 8vo,  Paper  30 

ROBINSON'S  (F.  W.)  A  Bridge  of  Glass 8vo,  Paper  80 

A  Fair  Maid 4to,  Paper  20 

A  Girl's  Romance,  and  Other  Stories 8vo,  Paper  30 

As  Long  as  She  Lived 8vo,  Paper  60 

Carry's  Confession 8vo,  Paper  50 

Christie's  Faith 12mo,  Cloth  1  75 

Coward  Conscience 4to,  Paper  15 

Her  Face  was  Her  Fortune 8vo,  Paper  40 

Lazarus  in  London 4to,  Paper  20 

Little  Kate  Kirby.  Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  60 

Mattie:  a  Stray 8vo,  Paper  40 

No  Man's  Friend 8vo,  Paper  50 

Othello  the  Second 32mo,  Paper  20 

Poor  Humanity 8vo,  Paper  50 

Poor  Zeph! 32mo,  Paper  20 

Romance  on  Four  Wheels 8vo,  Paper  15 

Second-Cousin  Sarah.  Illustrated 8 vo,  Paper  60 

Stern  Necessity 8vo,  Paper  40 

The  Barmaid  at  Battleton 32mo,  Paper  15 

The  Black  Speck 4to,  Paper  10 

The  Hands  of  Justice 4to,  Paper  20 

The  Man  She  Cared  For 4to,  Paper  20 

The  Romance  of  a  Back  Street 32mo,  Paper  15 

True  to  Herself 8vo,  Paper  60 

RUSSELL'S  (W.  Clark)  Auld  Lang  Syne 4to,  Paper  10 

A  Sailor's  Sweetheart 4to,  Paper  15 

A  Sea  Queen lOmo,  Cloth,  $1  00;  4to,  Paper  20 

An  Ocean  Free  Lance 4to,  Paper  20 

Jack's  Courtship 16mo,  Cloth,  100;  4to,  Paper  25 

John  Holdsworth,  Chief  Mate 4to,  Paper  20 

Little  Loo 4to,  Paper  20 

My  Watch  Below 4to,  Paper  20 

On  the  Fo'k'sle  Head.... 4to,  Paper  15 

Round  the  Galley  Fire 4to,  Paper  15 

The  "Lady  Maud:"  Schooner  Yacht.  Illustrated 4to,  Paper  20 

Wreck  of  the  "Grosvenor" 8vo,  Paper,  30  cents;  4to,  Paper  16 


ffarprr  <&  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


PBIOB 

SCOTT'S  Novels.     See  Waverley  Novels. 

SHERWOOD'S  (Mrs.  John)  A  Transplanted  Rose 12 mo,  Cloth  $1  00 

TABOR'S  (Eliza)  Eglantine 8vo,  Paper 

Hope  Meredith 8vo,  Paper 

Jeanie's  Quiet  Life 8vo,  Paper 

Little  Miss  Primrose 4to,  Paper 

Meta's  Faith 8vo,  Paper 

The  Clue  Ribbon 8vo,  Paper 

The  Last  of  Her  Line  4to,  Paper 

The  Senior  Songman 4 to,  Paper 

THACKERAY'S  (Miss)  Bluebeard's  Keys 8  vo,  Paper 

Da  Capo 32mo,  Paper 

Miscellaneous  Works 8vo,  Paper 

Miss  Angd , 8vo,  Paper 

Miss  Williamson's  Divagations 4to,  Paper 

Old  Kensington.      Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

THACKERAY'S  (W.  M.)  Denis  Duval.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper 

Henry  Esmond,  and  Lovel  the  Widower.     12  Ill's 8vo,  Paper 

Henry  Esmond 8vo,  Pa.,  50  cents  ;     4 to,  Paper 

Lovel  the  Widower 8vo,  Paper 

Pendennis.     17'J  Illustrations 8vo,  Paper 

The  Adventures  of  Philip.     64  Illustrations 8vo,  Paper 

The  Great  Hoggarty  Diamond 8vo,  Paper 

The  Newcomes.     102  Illustrations Svo,  Paper 

The  Virginians.     150  Illustrations Svo,  Paper 

Vanity  Fair.     32  Illustrations Svo,  Paper 

THACKERAY'S  Works.    Illustrated., 12  mo,  Cloth,  per  vol.  1  25 

Novels:  Vanity  Fair. — Pendennis. — The  Newcomes.— 'The  Virgin 
ians. — Philip. — Esmond,  and  Lovel  the  Widower.  6  vols.  Mis 
cellaneous:  Barry  Lyndon,  Hoggarty  Diamond,  &c. — Paris  and 
Irish  Sketch-Books,  &c. — Book  of  Snobs,  Sketches,  &c. — 'Four 
Georges,  English  Humorists,  Roundabout  Papers,  &c. — Catharine, 
&c.  5  vols. 

TOWNSEND'S  (G.  A.)  The  Entailed  Hat ,...16mo,  Cloth  1 

TROLLOPE'S  (Anthony)  An  Eye  for  an  Eye 4to,  Paper 

An  Old  Man's  Love 4to,  Paper 

Ayala's  Angel 4to,  Paper 

Cousin  Hen  ry 4 to,  Paper 

Doctor  Thorne lliino,  Cloth  1 

Doctor  Wortlc's  School 4  to,  Paper 

Framley  Parsonage 4  to,  Paper 

Harry  Heathcote  of  Gangoil.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper 

lie  Knew  He  was  Right.     Illustrated : Svo,  Paper 

Is  He  Popenjoy? 4to,  Paper 

John  Caldigate 4to,  Paper 

Kept  in  the  Dark 4  to,  Paper 

Lady  Anna Svo,  Paper 

Marion  Fay.     Illustrated 4 to,  Paper 

Phineas  Redux.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper 


Harper  &  Brothers'  Popular  Novels. 


TROLLOPE'S  (Anthony)  Rachel  Ray 8vo,  Paper  $  '  35 

Ralph  the  Heir,     illustrated 8vo,  Paper  75 

Sir  Harry  Hotspur  of  Humblethwaite.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  35 

The  American  Senator 8vo,  Paper  50 

The  Bekon  Estate 8vo,  Paper  85 

The  Bertrams 4to,  Paper  ]5 

The  Duke's  Children 4to,  Paper  20 

The  Eustace  Diamonds.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  80 

The  Fixed  Period , 4to,  Paper  15 

The  Golden  Lion  of  Granpere.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  40 

The  Lady  of  Launay 32mo,  Paper  20 

The  Last  Chronicle  of  Barset.    Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  90 

The  Prime  Minister 8vo,  Paper  60 

The  Small  House  at  Allington.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  75 

The  Vicar  of  Bullhampton.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  80 

The  Warden,  and  Barchester  Towers Svo,  Paper  60 

The  Way  We  Live  Now.     Illustrated 8vo,  Paper  90 

Thompson  Hall.     Illustrated 32mo,  Paper  20 

Why  Frau  Frohman  Raised  her  Prices,  &e 4to,  Paper  10 

(Frances  E.)  Among  Aliens.     Illustrated 4to,  Paper  15 

Anne  Furness , , 8vo,  Paper  50 

Like  Ships  Upon  the  Sea 4to,  Paper  20 

Mabel's  Progress Svo,  Paper  40 

The  Sacristan's  Household.     Illustrated Svo,  Paper  50 

Veronica Svo,  Paper  50 

WALLACE'S  (Lew)  Ben-Hur 16mo,  Cloth  1   50 

WAVERLEY  NOVELS.     12mo.     With  2000  Illustrations. 

THISTLE  EDITION 48  Vols.,  Green  Cloth,  per  vol.  1  00 

Complete  Sets,  Half  Morocco,  Gilt  Tops..,., 72  00 

HOLYROOD  EDITION 48  Vols.,  Brown  Cloth,  per  vol.  75 

Complete  Sets,  Half  Morocco,  Gilt  Tops ,. 72  <*) 

POPULAR  EDITION 24  Vols.,  Green  Cloth,  per  vol.  ]   '25 

Complete  Sets,  Half  Morocco 54  fM) 

WAVERLEY  NOVELS.     12mo.     With  2000  Illustrations. 

Waverley ;  Guy  Mannering ;  The  Antiquary ;  Rob  Roy ;  Old 
Mortality;  The  Heart  of  Mid-Lothian;  A  Legend  of  Montrose; 
The  Bride  of  Lammermoor ;  The  Black  Dwarf ;  Ivanhoe ;  The 
Monastery ;  The  Abbot ;  Kenilworth  ;  The  Pirate ;  The  Fortunes 
of  Nigel ;  Peveril  of  the  Peak ;  Quentin  Durward ;  St.  Ronan's 
Well;  Redgauntlet;  The  Betrothed ;  The  Talisman ;  Woodstock; 
Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  The  Highland  Widow,  &c. ;  The 
Fair  Maid  of  Perth ;  Anne  of  Geierstein ;  Count  Robert  of  Paris  ; 
Castle  Dangerous ;  The' Surgeon's  Daughter ;  Glossary. 

WOOLSON'S  (C.  F.)  Anne.     Illustrated  by  Reinhart IGmo,  Cloth  1   25 

For  the  Major.     Illustrated 16mo,  Cloth  1  00 

FATES'S  (Edmund)  Dr.  Waimvright's  Patient Svo,  Paper  30 

Kissing  the  Rod Svo,  Paper  40 

Land  at  Last Svo,  Paper  40 

Wrecked  in  Port 8 vn,  Paper  35 


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